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THE MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 
























































LISITA 

















































The 

Mystery of 
The Old Mill 


BY 

ELIZA ANN WEBB 



This story, though founded on facts, and containing 
some facts, is largely fiction; but typical of life in an 
earlier day in these particular localities. 














COPYRIGHTED BY 
ELIZA ANN WEBB 
1924 



nrc 20 *24 


©C1A81527 2 V 


DEDICATED TO MY MOTHER 
In memory of the stories we learned around the 
fireside of childhood days, in the vicinity of the old 
mill, where the strange mystery sprang up in the early 
eighties. 




CONTENTS 


Page 

CHAPTER I. 

Lisita . 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Coehern . 5 

CHAPTER III. 

The Old Mill . 9 

CHAPTER IV. 

Hidden Away ... 13 

CHAPTER V. 

Victor Coewell . 17 

CHAPTER VI. 

The Letter . 23 

CHAPTER VII. 

A Perilous Ride . 27 

CHAPTER VIII. 

The Fisherman’s Story . 33 

CHAPTER IX. 

Nancy Lake .„. 39 

CHAPTER X. 

Lisita’s New Home .. 45 

CHAPTER XI. 

Sunday at Coehern . 51 

CHAPTER XII 

Lisita’s Abductor . 61 

CHAPTER XIII 

Victor Coewell Follows the Gleam . 69 

CHAPTER XIV 

Lisita’s Teacher . 77 

CHAPTER XV . 

Sambo Makes A Discovery .;. 85 

CHAPTER XVI 

A Land Deal . 93 

CHAPTER XVII 

No Longer Squatters . 101 

CHAPTER XVIII 

The Hallowe’en Party . 109 





















CONTENTS 


Page 

CHAPTER XIX 

A Stranger Visits Nancy Lake . 117 

CHAPTER XX 

The Log-Rolling in Cave Hollow . 125 

CHAPTER XXI 

The House-Raising Finished . 137 

CHAPTER XXII 

Guests at Coewells ... 149 

CHAPTER XXIII 

The Tavern by the Wayside . 159 

CHAPTER XXIV 

School Begins at Millgrove . 171 

CHAPTER XXV 

The Husking Bee . 183 

CHAPTER XXVI 

The Lost Returns . 195 

CHAPTER XXVII 

A Traveller on the Highway . 207 

CHAPTER XXVIII 

Still Following the Gleam ... 217 

CHAPTER XXIX 

Lisita, a teacher . 229 

CHAPTER XXX 

Another Stranger at Nancy Lake’s . 239 

CHAPTER XXXI 

Doctor Coewell Practices Medicine ... 249 

CHAPTER XXXII 

A Voyage Across the Sea . 259 

CHAPTER XXXIII 

A Secret Unfolded . # 271 

CHAPTER XXXIV 

In a Foreign Land . 283 

CHAPTER XXXV 

A Rest on the Mill Rock .-. 293 

CHAPTER XXXVI 

Sunshine After Shadows . 303 





















That all with one accord 
May read the story I have told, 
And give a thought to passing time, 
Or the things that are growing old. 


THE MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


CHAPTER I. 

LISITA. 

Almost a hundred years ago on the western 
bank of a creek that flowed into a larger 
stream of water about a mile below, stood 
a grist mill. In front of the mill, close by the 
roadside lay a round, flat stone, known as the 
mill rock. Forty years had come and gone 
and upon this stone many a weary traveller 
had sat to rest. Yet there were those who 
sat there in later years, that could not rest, 
for away in the distance a phantom like fig¬ 
ure in the form of a man, seemed to be ap¬ 
proaching. The muscles that had relaxed to 
rest on the mill-stone were now tense, as if 
ready for any emergency, as the strange fig¬ 
ure appeared in the bright moonlight. As¬ 
suredly growing smaller, changing its form 

to that of a child, clothed in a robe of mid- 
1 


2 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


night black, gliding along noiselessly, stop¬ 
ping here and there to utter a low, sad cry, 
then pass on to the fence on the bank by the 
mill, and gaze into the smiling waters of the 
mill pond below. 

In the year of 1845 in a humble log cabin, 
in a remote district of what is now West Vir¬ 
ginia, and far from what the modern world 
would call civilization, Lisita, our heroine was 
born, and destined to become a child of the 
mill or its vicinity. At the eary age of twelve 
years she could cook, sew, knit and spin, and 
could really go through with the whole rou¬ 
tine of daily household duties unassisted, in 
the home of her maiden aunt, with whom she 
lived after her mother’s death. Lisita was 
very beautiful in form and features. Her eyes, 
in whose liquid depths there was much mean¬ 
ing, were a dark brown, as was also her hair. 
Her countenance was open and frank. Her 
face was fair to see, and as she sat at the 
spinning wheel, her deft fingers plying the 
thread, she was beautiful indeed, and a queen 
might have envied her for the natural beauty 
and comeliness she possessed. 

It was not the outward beauty alone that 
prompted the few playmates that Lisita had, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 3 

to love her and seek her, but the beautiful life 
within, as well, which was always longing 
for something better than she had known, 
and the great soul in that small habitation of 
clay was struggling at its bands to break 
forth and swell and grow, and fill the place 
that God had intended it to fill in this world. 
And, dear readers, permit me to say as I 
stand with my face toward life’s sunset, the 
saddest death I know of is the death of an 
inspiration, a good intent, a noble thought or 
the dying out of a talent. 

Lisita, in the home of her precise and ex¬ 
acting Aunt Nancy Lake, which was sur¬ 
rounded with vines, roses and shrubbery, be¬ 
yond which one could see much wooded land, 
a meadow and some cleared fields, felt a long¬ 
ing for a higher life than she had known. In 
that sparsely settled neighborhood, with its 
homes so far apart, and the closest school 
three miles away, they seemed to be entirely 
alone, except when some neighbor came to 
spend the day, or a traveller stopped to eat 
a meal with them. Her aunt had a collection 
of old books from which she read and learned 
much. She also read the Bible and could find 
each text the preacher used in his monthly 


4 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

sermons, at the little meeting house about 
three miles away where she and her aunt 
would go the first Sunday in each month, to 
hear him explain the Scriptures and talk of 
the heavenly home, exhort his hearers to fol¬ 
low the Golden Rule, and tell them of a 
“crown of righteousness that is laid up for 
all who diligently serve Him here.” 

Lisita and her aunt would drive through 
the lanes and shady woodland, in their one 
horse buggy, till they came to the little 
church where the country folks were wont 
to meet each month. This trip to church 
with an occasional day at a neighboring 
farmhouse, her books, a chance traveller 
from whom she gained new ideas, the song of 
the birds, the pure air, the warm sunshine 
and daily household duties, went to make up 
the song of life for Lisita. 


CHAPTER II. 


COEHERN. 

About one hundred and fifty miles from the 
home of Lisita and her Aunt Nancy Lake, 
was a beautiful farm of about four hundred 
acres. One hundred acres of this land was 
cleared and under a high state of cultivation. 
On a litle elevation, back from the river, 
standing out as the best homestead in the 
country, was Cohern, the home of the Coe- 
wells. In later years it is known to some peo¬ 
ple as Coehern and I will call it this through¬ 
out my story. 

It was supposed that Cornelius Coewell’s 
grandfather settled there soon after “Mad” 
Anthony Waynes’ victory at Fallen Timbers 
and the treaty of 1795, after securing a grant 
or title for the land from the Virginia land 
office. He with his wife and two sons had 
crossed the mountains carrying their earthly 
belongings on horseback and driving a cow 
and five head of sheep, reached this vast track 


6 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 


of timber land early in the Spring, cut away 
the trees and erected a small cabin where 
they reared their family, after which Cornel¬ 
ius Coewell finally fell heir to the “home- 
place” and Victor Coewell, the son of Cornel¬ 
ius, the only living child, would in time be¬ 
come heir to the farm, with its ample build¬ 
ings, fertile fields, orchards and valuable 
timber lands. A well had been dug close by 
the house, which afforded a never-failing 
supply of pure, cold water, and when the old 
wooden bucket, drawn up by a windlass, 
reached the top, one might drink to his 
satisfaction of the refreshing draught. 

A walk had been laid with large, flat rocks 
found on the land. The hollyhock, the bleed¬ 
ing-heart, the touch-me-not, the bachelor- 
button, white lily and hundred-leaf rose, 
wafted a fragrance on the breeze that min¬ 
gled with that of the crab-apple, the ground 
rose and the wild flowers of the hillside. And 
were you ever to gaze on such varieties of nat¬ 
ural beauty, as we look backward across the 
years into the dim past and see at Coehern, 
it will linger long in memory. 

Cornelius Coewell, a grandson of the first 
settler, owned Coehern at that time. A man 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 7 

who was much liked and admired by all the 
people in the neighborhood for miles around, 
for his honesty, his kindly attitude toward 
his neighbors, his integrity, benevolent 
Christian spirit and his uprightness in his 
every day life. Also for his well kept 
grounds, orchards, gardens, well tilled fields 
of wheat, oats, corn, potatoes and vegetables 
of all kinds. On this beautiful evening in 
June, Cornelius Coewell and his comely wife, 
Roanne, stood by the well and drank of its 
clear, sparkling waters, talking of the Well 
of whose waters we may drink and never 
thirst again, as it is spoken of in the Bible, 
A well of water springing up into everlasting 
life.” Uncle Sambo and Aunt Rachel, slaves 
or trusted servants of the Coewells, were 
milking the cows in the lot, just as Victor 
came riding up on his favorite mare, holding 
a letter in his hand, bearing a foreign post¬ 
mark. This letter caused some excitement 
among the Coewells, for they had no rela¬ 
tives or acquaintances in England, though 
their grandfather had come from Wales 
years ago, settled in Eastern Virginia and 
later crossed the mountains, to build a cabin 
home, and all trace of his relatives had been 


8 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

lost years ago. They were much concerned 
to know who had written it and how the 
writer had secured their name and address, 
so Roanne tore it open and read it aloud to 
the rest. While she was reading it, the cabin 
home of Nancy Lake one hundred and fifty 
miles away, was wrapped in a mantle of dark¬ 
ness and mystery, for the beautiful maiden 
who was wont to sit within and spin, and do 
a thousand other things in the daily routine, 
had been stolen and hidden away. 

Twilight is falling over Coehern and on the 
deep, dense woods, miles away, a girl sees the 
twilight shadows fall deeper and darker as 
she is carried far, far away from her early 
home, with a dark-eyed stranger as her only 
guide and companion. 


THE OLD MILL 






























* 



























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CHAPTER III. 


THE OLD MILL. 

Water or grist mills are a thing of the past 
in this state, so far as I know, except in remote 
mountain districts, and most of them have 
been torn down or left on the banks of the 
various streams of water, to decay. Many 
years ago most all creeks and smaller streams 
of water were dotted here and there with 
these mills. The people came from miles 
around, to the mill to have their grinding 
done, swap opinions or “hosses” and jack- 
knives and return to their various homes 
with heavy grists and light hearts. About 
two miles from Coehern, on the bank of a 
creek that empties into the clear, winding 
willow-hemmed banks of the river that flows 
in the north and east of the vine-clad hills and 
productive river bottom-lands of he Coe- 
wells, was a grist mill. The old mill stood on 
the western bank of the creek, at the very 
edge of the water, and the mill wheel stood 

9 


10 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

out so that the pent-up waters, pouring 
through the open gate, might turn it and 
grind the golden grain from the rich harvests 
of the farmers, who would bring enough each 
grinding day for the following week’s supply 
of bread-stuff and some who lived a long dis¬ 
tance from the mill, brought wagon loads so 
they would not have to come so often. 

The jolly, dusty old miller joked and 
laughed with boys and girls, men and women, 
as he numbered each “grist” that was brought 
in. And nothing pleased him better than a 
good “ turn-out ” on “ grinding days,” for 
•well he knew that from each sack of grain 
he could collect so much toll. 

The mill-dam caused the water to raise far 
up the creek, so that skating on the mill-pond 
in winter, and boating, and sometimes swim¬ 
ming, in the summer, made good sport for the 
young folks, and many of them were sorry 
to hear their names called when grist was 
ready for they knew it would be another 
week before they could meet again at the 
mill. Above the noise of the mill grinding 
grain, you could hear the splash, splash of the 
water against the mill wheel, and the wheel in 
turning would throw the water into the air, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 11 

as it rattled and splashed, on and on, singing 
to those who were in gay moods, of moon¬ 
light nights, strolls through the woodland, 
husking-bees, log-rollings, quilting parties, 
love, mirth and gladness. To those in sadder 
moods, who were older in years, it sang of the 
west, where the sun was setting when the day 
was about over, of the night drawing near 
and of home, Heaven and rest. 

And, as the story goes, on moonlight nights 
a phantom maiden walked alone, near the old 
mill, and lingered by the pond, uttering a 
weird cry, so melancholy in its notes, as it 
died away on the night winds, that those who 
heard it never forgot it. Yes, those who saw 
and heard it, remember yet, and as the vague 
shadows of a dream return, so the memories 
linger, of a dark-robed maiden, standing by 
the old mill, uttering a low, sad cry. 






CHAPTER IY. 


HIDDEN AWAY. 

Lisita, as usual, arose at six o’clock on this 
bright and never-to-be-forgotten day in June, 
hastily dressed herself, washed her face and 
combed her hair, so that she might assist her 
aunt with the morning work. She swept the 
porch and steps, stopping before she went in, 
to arrange a lovely bouquet of roses and 
violets for their breakfast table, which was 
covered with a home-spun linen cloth. The 
napkins too, were of home-spun linen and the 
plain wooden-handled knives and forks, as 
well as the pewter spoons, glowed from the 
effects of a good scouring with wood ashes, 
by the same slender hands that threw the 
shuttle of the spinning wheel. Lisita brought 
the fresh roll of butter from the milk house, 
and that, with eggs, dried raspberries, coffee, 
milk and wheat biscuits, made up their morn¬ 
ing meal. After breakfast she busied herself 
putting the dishes away. Then with mop, 

13 


14 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

brush and broom, wielded by her skillful 
hand, everything in the little cottage put on 
that shiny appearance that those wayside 
farmerettes of fifty years ago, were so 
artful in producing. She looked out and saw 
her aunt coming across the lot with a pail 
of milk, so foamy and white that it made her 
think of the crested billows and the foam on 
the waves, of which she had learned in her 
old reader. 

Lisita and her aunt lived a very quiet and 
peaceful life, known only by the country folk 
and a chance traveller who stopped to eat a 
meal from their table that was always spread 
with clean and wholesome food, or to get a 
fresh drink from the well, whose bucket was 
moss-grown, or to rest in the quiet shade 
where nature abounds and fills the soul with a 
longing to understand God and his great 
works. 

Lisita, who was now in her fourteenth year, 
seemed to see beauty in everything. The song 
of the birds was music for her. She loved to 
be out in the open fields, the warm sunshine 
and balmy air. The grassy meadows, covered 
with dew each morning, meant a new day for 
her. The exercise made her strong in body 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 15 

and mind but as she roamed through the 
fields with life’s sustaining, unseen ocean of 
air, forever floating around her, she seemed 
to know it was there, but was unmindful of 
its value to her. She did not know that it was 
deep breathing that helped to make her eyes 
so bright, her cheeks so rosy and steps so 
nimble. The great oak, in whose quiet shade 
she sat, seemed to talk to her of its sturdy 
growth from year to year until it was king 
of the forest, and she compared her life to it, 
as she wanted to grow in body, mind and soul 
so that she might be a queen among women in 
her own right, in the doing of things as her 
better nature told her. 

A stranger stopped at the little farmhouse 
for dinner that day, who was old and gray 
and bent with years, and Lisita and her aunt 
tried in every way to make him comfortable 
but he did not talk much and left them ab¬ 
ruptly, saying “ I must be on my way for I am 
on a long journey.” They did not see him as 
he ran swiftly across the fields to the clump 
of trees near the woods, and quickly removed 
his wig and gray beard. 

After the dinner work was done up, Lisita, 
with bucket in hand, walked across the field 


16 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

and to the top of the hill near the woods, to 
gather the berries that grew in clusters there. 
She had almost filled her bucket and the ber¬ 
ries never were so nice, large and juicy as 
now, but hark! what was that noise in the 
bushes? Not the sleek gliding rattler who 
warns before he strikes; but a hidden foe in 
the form of a man sprang lithely from behind 
some bushes, threw a shawl over Lisita’s head 
and shoulders, took her in his arms and ran 
swiftly toward the deep woods beyond the 
pasture field. And in spite of her cries, and 
efforts to get loose, he bore her swiftly 
through the woods where his pony was tied 
in waiting. 



VICTOR COEWELL 



























































* 






































































































CHAPTER V. 


VICTOR COEWELL. 

Victor Coewell, a youthful looking lad, in 
his eighteenth year, alighted from the hand¬ 
some sorrel mare on which he was riding, 
after giving his mother the strange looking 
letter—the very mare his father had given 
him on his last birthday and no wonder he 
felt proud as he gazed at the arched neck, 
long, slender-bodied, clean limbed animal that 
would carry him over the highroads, through 
the lanes and by-ways, whose paths were in¬ 
tricate and some times narrow and steep, 
with trees and cliffs of rocks on either side. 
Yet, Bess, as she was named, had always man¬ 
aged to carry him to safety. Victor was strong 
and muscular, and were he living in the twen¬ 
tieth century, he would be termed a very 
great athlete. He had fair complexion, light 
brown hair and blue eyes. He was six feet 
tall and weighed one hundred and eighty 
pounds, a good specimen of manhood indeed. 

17 


18 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

He attended the three months school that had 
been taught for a few years at Millgrove, a 
distance of three miles from Coehern. He also 
received some instruction from private teach¬ 
ers in the home. 

Victor was kindly disposed toward every 
one and was congenial in the home, as well as 
among the slaves or servants, unless some of 
them had not taken the proper care of his dog 
and horse. If he found this to be true, he 
would get very angry. His father, a man who 
was fond of the chase, kept a kennel for his 
hounds, and his son who also liked the chase, 
was never happier than when monted on his 
favorite mare, with his attendants following, 
and the hounds, Leader and Dan, Trooper and 
Truboy, at their heels. Truboy, his favorite, 
was a deerhound of the Scotch breed of large 
hounds. He resembled a greyhound in build, 
but was stronger and heavier, with a rough, 
tawny coat. He was about twenty-eight 
inches high and weighed almost a hundred 
pounds. At that time, in this neighborhood, 
there were bear, deer, and wild turkeys in the 
woods, and a great many deer were killed by 
settlers who concealed themselves close by a 
deerlick. In the chase, after the dogs got a 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 19 

deer or fox started, the hunters would gallop 
to the low-gap and somtimes shoot the deer, as 
it came into view, with the hounds in hot pur¬ 
suit. If it was a fox, they would build a fire of 
logs and pine knots, at night, and listen to the 
baying of the hounds, which was music to the 
huntsman’s ear, especially when they could 
hear their favorite hound in the lead! “ But 
how on airth dey cuold stinguish de yelpin of 
one houn’ from de odder,” always puzzled Un¬ 
cle Sambo, and he often said, “ Wid de houn’s 
to be fed up and de hosses to be rubbed down 
watah to draw, made li’l Eph resemble an 
ober-wuked nigger.” 

It was on one of these hunting trips that 
Victor lingered behind the rest, for he want¬ 
ed to be alone in the home of the trees. His 
trained ear would catch every sound which 
was music to him, and he often paused by the 
brookside to hear its deep gurgling sound, as 
it talked to him of its journey to the far-away 
sea. How it danced, laughed and talked of 
its wild, long glide through green meadows, 
mossy dells and wooded vales. The trees too, 
were his friends and seemed to speak to him 
of the great place he was to fill in the hearts 
of many, and most especially of one. Of the 


20 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

gleam he was to follow on and on, whose 
glimpses can only be caught by those who fol¬ 
low its bright rays up, up and ever onward 
to its heights, where one can pause and hear 
naught but the echo of his own pulsation. The 
rays of this gleam which Victor seemed to see, 
which we cannot find on land or sea, as a 
“pillow of fire in the night and a cloud by 
day,” hovered over him now and filled his soul 
with a longing to reach the heights, where 
loving hearts, pure minds and great souls may 
speak to each other; not in words, but in 
thought and understanding; the height that 
pure manhood and womanhood may reach. 
He was startled by the yelping of a hound in 
the distance and he now realized that he had 
meditated long, in the forest, for under 
shadow of the thick trees it was almost dark 
and the night-birds were calling to their 
mates. The rattler was lurking in the path¬ 
way of the rabbit, and the night-hawk, 
perched aloft, uttering a low, weird cry, while 
nature was spreading a curtain of shadow 
over hill and vale. 

But hark! the yelping of a hound, maybe 
Truboy on the hunt of him, so he went in that 
direction and when he was very near he 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 21 

thought he heard a gruff voice in the distance, 
calling to the dog. He hurried on, just in time 
to see the largest hound he ever saw, running 
swiftly into the depths of the forest. He re¬ 
sembled Truboy in build, and must have been 
of the same breed of dogs, but was gray in 
color and much larger. 

“What on airth kep’ yo so long and no 
game eider?,” asked Sambo. “ Oh, I was day¬ 
dreaming,” said Victor. “ Day dreamin’? De 
night dreamin’, wid de night hoss and oder 
pesterin’ tings am enuf fo’ me, let alone sottin 
down in de woods whar all dem beastses and 
creepin’ tings am,” said Sambo. “ Yes, but I 
was musing,” said Victor. “ Wall, music am 
moughty fine when played on de banjo and 
fiddle, but de squall ob de wild-cat, de rattle 
ob de rattler and de scream ob de painter, am 
too much fo’ me; besides yo’ was not fur frum 
de ole mill whar its too spookiastical fo’ me. 
Yas, sah, an’ I doan parade aroun’ dar where¬ 
abouts,” said Sambo. “ She is liable to come 
here some night,” said Victor. Uncle Sambo 
now trembled with fear, and said “ 0, Lawd, 
don’ let her cum any closter dan de ole mill, 
and if she hab to sing dat low filutin’ death- 
bell music, let her sing it to de pon’.” This 


22 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


amused Victor, and he ray away with Sambo 
at his heels. He went upstairs to bed and 
was sure he heard a woman scream some¬ 
where. It sounded near the top of the hill over 
in the nearest woods. He went out in the yard 
and listened for some time but could hear 
no sound, and retired for the night. 


CHAPTER VI. 


THE LETTER. 

Roanne Coewell gazed long and in wonder 
at the strange looking letter, bearing a for¬ 
eign postmark. It was directed to Cornelius 
Coewell, written in a plain and delicate hand. 
She tore open the letter and was very much 
surprised to see an emblem or insignia of a 
Coat of Arms stamped on the letterhead 
which was the heredity ensign armorial of his 
ancestors, and consisted of figures borne on 
a shield, signifying descendants of royalty, 
or as marks of distinguished or dignified per¬ 
sons. The letter read as follows: 

Edinburg, Scotland, 

May 10th., 1859. 

My dear Mr. Coewell: 

I have heard through correspondence with 
some very prominent families of America, 
of your unbounded hospitality. My wife and 
I hope we are not asking too much when we 

23 


24 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

ask if we may partake of that kind hospital¬ 
ity, while we sojourn in your picturesque 
country. We have reason to believe that some 
of our relatives (in whom we are greatly in¬ 
terested), live, or have lived, in western Vir¬ 
ginia. We have been directed to you as one 
who could give some information, or aid us in 
the search. We will sail for America in the 
early Autumn and write you immediately on 
date of our arrival on your shores. 

Respectfully, 

CECIL COX. 

Roanne Coewell, who was comely and fair, 
returned the ardent gaze of her husband, and 
said “Cornelius, this is the last day of June, 
and if they sail in early Autumn we may ex¬ 
pect them in November, and maybe not be¬ 
fore Thanksgiving, when most of our work 
will be ‘laid by’.” “Yes, Ma, we will have 
things in readiness for our guests. And that 
makes me think, Roanne—I must rob the bees 
tomorrow.” “It seems like we will have so 
much to be thankful for this year, Cornelius.” 
“ Yes, we have great need to be thankful to 
God for our great harvests that have never 
seemed so bountiful so far before, and also 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 25 

we must not forget to be thankful to Him 
each day for His goodness and mercy toward 
us, always having thankful hearts.” 

With their ample house-room, wide, old 
fireplaces and plenty of wood stored up to 
burn, their rich harvests of grain, fruit and 
vegetables of all kinds, it looked like they 
could amply share their hospitality with 
many more. Aunt Rachel, whose voice could 
be heard from the milk-house, was saying 
“I spose sum of dem roil, white trash’ll be 
stampedin’ all round’ here ’fore long, an’ I’se 
gwine to tell yo’ dat dis cullud lady am a leetle 
mite shy of strangers. An’ wid’ de screamin’ 
in de woods dat Sambo an’ Marse Vic dun 
hearn, an’ de maiden rampagin’ roun’ de ole 
mill, singin’ like a dyin’ swan and de big gray 
houn’ on de hill, hit makes us tink of hants. 
An’ I dun tell yo’ Chloe White am ponderin’ 
on it ebery minnit.” 

Slavery was not so popular west of the 
mountains, but Aunt Rachel, who was really 
a slave, was a very trusty negro, as was Uncle 
Sam, and they were allowed many privileges 
which most slaves of that time did not have. 
One of these privileges was to always have 
their say about things, and when a few years 


26 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


later the slaves were freed, many of them 
wanted to stay with their masters. Such was 
the case at Coewells, and his slaves or serv¬ 
ants remained with him after the Emancipa¬ 
tion Proclamation was issued by Abraham 
Lincoln, Jaunary first, 1863. 


CHAPTER VII. 


A PERILOUS RIDE. 

Lisita, in spite of her pleadings and cries 
to be loosened, was swiftly borne on and on 
through the forest. After they had travelled 
a long way, she noticed they were going at a 
much slower gait, and she guessed it must be 
dark. Oh, how terrible it all was, and why 
did he not talk or tell her where he was taking 
her. She struggled again to loose herself, 
and in the struggle raised the shawl over her 
face. She could see that it was dark but they 
were near the top of a hill and after they 
descended on the other side they came out 
into the open. It was lighter now and on and 
on they went at a good pace. She begged him 
once more to take her back and asked why 
he was taking her away. He answered “No 
harm will come to you, fair one. If you keep 
quiet on this pony I’ll carry you safely to your 
new home, where you’ll like it, I’m sure.” “ I’ll 
run away from you too, for I don’t have to 

27 


28 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

stay with anyone I don’t like and don’t know.” 
“Then you’ll learn to like me, won’t you?” 
“No, I won’t, and the farther I go, the more 
I hate you.” “Well, then, you will hate me 
much, for we are going farther and farther 
and you are now full fifty miles from home.” 

As soon as they began to see signs of light 
in the east, he shunned the roads and open 
fields and followed the wooded paths. They 
were coming into a beautiful grove of trees 
now, overlooking a winding valley through 
which flowed a stream of water. It was hard¬ 
ly light enough to see it good yet. He said 
“We will rest here and eat.” And were you 
ever out in the early morning to see the dawn¬ 
ing of the day? Lisita was, and she looked 
far to the east where the faint streaks were 
growing lighter. The mists from the lower 
lands were rising and the songs of feathered 
warblers seemed to blend with the voice of na¬ 
ture in caroling a song of gladness, at the 
dawning of another day. A new song, as it 
were, and she wondered if God, who had at¬ 
tuned their voices, did not direct their glad 
song. She knew he did, and all fear left her. He 
spoke of eating and she wondered what they 
would eat, when behind a clump of bushes she 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 29 

saw another pony tied in waiting. He untied 
the pony from the tree, brought it around 
near her and removed the saddle pockets. He 
opened them and handed her a bottle of milk, 
some meat and bread. She first thought she 
would not eat, but after he assured her no 
harm would come to her while in his care, and 
that another day’s and night’s ride would 
bring them to his people, she ate and drank 
for she knew that would strengthen her, and 
she intended to get away from him at the 
first opportunity. He said “Your chance in 
life will be much better than it would have 
been if I had never known you, and besides 
you will learn many things you never knew, 
and I think can aid us in securing a great for¬ 
tune.” She shuddered as she thought how 
terrible it all was; and her poor aunt. What 
would become of her now? She seemed to 
resign herself to the surroundings at present 
but fully resolved to run away the first chance 
she got. She knew it was no use to try it now 
for his dark eyes were ever watching her, and 
if she did not make good her escape he might 
treat her cruelly. When daylight came she 
looked her abductor over and over. He had 
dark hair and eyes, was tall and slender with 


30 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


rather broad shoulders.. He seemed to be ac¬ 
tive and quick in his movements. His long 
slender fingers fumbled with a gold watch 
chain that hung from a watch he looked at 
often, as he paced restlessly to and fro. Lisita 
looked very beautiful in the early morning, 
with the brown shawl around her shoulders, 
and the grove of trees as a background. 
Though she was tired she was glad to move 
on when the ponies were ready, but in her 
bright brown eyes there was a far-away look 
as of a foreboding of evil. He asked her if 
she would not ride the other pony and assured 
her it was safe and sure-footed. She readily 
assented to this for two distinct reasons: one, 
that she would not have to be so near him, 
and the other, she might run a good race for 
escape if a chance presented itself. The pony 
she mounted was a bright dun in color, with 
spots of a darker brown, or black—what 
some of the old settlers termed a Rattlesnake 
pony. It had an even, easy gait—and how she 
wished she could be back with her aunt and 
have this pony to use for her very own. But 
alas! she was destined to ride in another di¬ 
rection, where all was strange and new. 
Toward evening as they followed a winding 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 31 

path around a hillside, they could see a creek 
in the valley below, with a grist mill on its 
bank. His pony was in the lead, the path 
getting narrower and rocky, and as he 
turned in his saddle to tell her they would 
have about two hours’ ride yet, his pony- 
stumbled and threw him over a small cliff of 
rocks. Now was Lisita’s chance and she rode 
as fast as the brown pony could carry her 
over that narrow and rocky path. She soon 
came in sight of a creek, where she could 
see a riffle or ford, and it was only a few min¬ 
utes till she came into a road leading down to 
the ford. After she crossed and ascended 
the bank, she came into a good road, following 
the west bank of the creek, and if ever a pony 
and its rider made good time, they did. Her 
hair was flying loose in the wind, and the 
fair rider felt that she was almost flying over 
the road, but as night was coming on, she 
took to a by-path that led her into the woods 
where she could conceal herself from her foe 
until it was light enough to see her way 
again. She passed around a deep, wooded hol¬ 
low, where she could see smoke ascending, and 
heard the yelping of a hound. Her first 
thought was to make her way down and ask 


32 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

for shelter for the night, but she was afraid, 
lest it might be some of her pursuer’s people. 
The hound who had scented the pony, well 
known to him, was in hot pursuit. As she 
was coming to the edge of the woods, where 
she could see over the fence into a cleared 
field, she heard a gruff voice call to the dog, 
after which he ceased his yelping. She dis¬ 
mounted and stood bewildered, for awhile, 
not knowing which way to turn. She mused 
some time on the weirdness of the scene, and 
of her strange, inevitable fate. She patted 
the pony on the head and started to mount, 
she heard a buzzing sound when—hist— 
across the path a huge rattler jumped and 
she knew it had struck. She ran a little way, 
screamed and fell unconscious. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE FISHERMAN’S STORY. 

An old fisherman and his beautiful daugh¬ 
ter, Mollie, were coming home late in the 
evening of the same day, from baiting their 
trots. A trot-line as all fisherman know is 
a line of cord or rope, that reaches from one 
side of the river bank to the other, and is 
suspended over deep water and allowed to 
sink a little beneath the surface. To this 
line the hooks are attached, ^two or three 
feet apart, from one end of the line to the 
other, by means of stagion or smaller cord, 
which causes the. hooks to stand in deep 
water. They would set the trot-line in the 
evening, baiting the hooks with fishing 
worms, craw-fish, chicken liver and small 
minnows, returning in the early morning of 
the next day to go over the line. And many 
times they would find a great number of nice, 
fresh fish. They had finished baiting the line, 
tied their boat to a tree on the bank of the 

33 


34 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

river, and were on their way to the fisher¬ 
man’s hut, that stood high up on the bank, 
overlooking the river, when they saw a young 
and beautiful rider, galloping her brown pony 
at full speed, on the road leading to the old 
mill. She had a dark brown shawl wound 
around her slender form, her hair was flying 
in the breeze and she looked neither to the 
right nor left but rode swiftly on. 

“ I do not understand,” said the old fisher¬ 
man to his daughter. “What does it mean? 
That ‘critter’ nor its fair rider, don’t belong 
around here, honey.” That evening Mollie 
pondered on it long, as did her father as he 
smoked his pipe of clay, and the two sat there 
silently, one on the steps and the other on a 
rustic bench. They watched the shadows of 
the evening draw near, and the river valley 
was dark already, when they heard a horse’s 
hoof-beat now and then against a stone, as it 
galloped its way on around the road to the 
old mill. The old fisherman said he hoped 
there was no evil a “bodin” near and thought 
it might a’bin some hunter on his way to 
“ jine ” others in the chase. Mollie said she 
didn’t believe it was, for it just sounded so 
much like the one that they saw and heard 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 35 

early in the evening. They sat there until 
it got lighter, but a heavy mist hung over the 
river. The fisherman, looking up, said “ The 
earth is the Lord’s and the fulness thereof; 
the world and they that dwell therein.” 

But just as they were going inside the hut, 
their peace and quietness was broken by a 
woman’s scream. It sounded afar off, at the 
top of the hill near the woods, though they 
were sure they heard it. But after that 
everything seemed still. 

The next morning when they went down 
to go over the trot-line, Victor Coewell and 
Sambo were standing on the river bank, and 
the following conversation took place: 

“ Good morning, Victor, you look so glad 
and smilin’. You must have had a good 
night’s sleep.” 

“ I never was better, Uncle Jim, and I must 
have slept at the rate of a mile a minute for 
the night seemed short. How do our fisher- 
folk find themselves this big morning?” 

“ Oh, well enough, I reckon. I put in a bad 
night though,” answered the fisherman. At 
this Mollie raised her head and smiled, her 
blue eyes sparkling with merriment, as she 
said “ Was that you making all that fuss last 


36 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

night, Sambo?” “Lawsy, no. Sambo kep’ 
bery still and lay low after hearin’ sich a 
noise. What did it soun’ like? It soun’ 
as if someone was hurtin’ all ober er wuz ded 
er wuz dyin’ and I krep off to bed and say let 
’em dy in peace.” They all laughed but took 
it more seriously as the old fisherman told 
the story of the brown pony and its rider and 
of the other hoof-beats heard some time later. 
“I reckon no girl was ever fairer and rode 
beter’n this one. She left a trail o’ dust be¬ 
hind, and a feelin’ in my heart of evil abodin’ 
in these parts, but may be not,” said the fish¬ 
erman. 

Victor then spoke of his staying behind the 
other hunters and hearing the yelping of a 
hound, and afterwards seeing a very large 
greyhound disappear in the thick woods, and 
hearing a scream that sounded like that of a 
frightened woman. “ It looks very strange, 
and if I hear any more of it I am liable to 
investigate somewhat,” said Victor. 

“ Well, come on Moll, with the boat, and we 
will look our trot-line over. The line hangs 
low this morning and we may have a good 
ketch, get in, Victor,” said the fisherman. 
“ All right,” said Victor, as he climbed into 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 37 

the boat Mollie rowed up, saying “ Sambo, 
you stay on the shore and if any of the finny 
tribe swim out, hold them down until we get 
back.” “ Dis niggah don’t want to see no 
tribes cornin’. One ob dem ghosts or debils 
am enuf fo’ me, and if I sees anything spirit¬ 
ualistic aroun’ hyar, I’ll hoi’ my feet down to 
de groun’ and keep ’em agoin’ moughty fast 
fo’ home.” They were about half-way over 
the line and had taken off two nice catfish and 
several white perch. The line kept swaying 
and going lower all the time as they neared 
the deepest part of the water. “ Git a holt 
of the trot-line and hold it firm, Victor, for 
the way she sways there must be a whopper 
on it,” said the fisherman. Mollie held the 
boat steady and Victor drew up the line and 
held it firm as he could. The old fisherman 
was pulling on the stagion that held the hook. 
“ Quick, quick, with the gaff-hook,” said the 
fisherman, as he caught a glimpse of a mon¬ 
strous fish, but Victor handed the gaff-hook 
to the fisherman just in time to hear the 
stagion snap, as though it were a thread, and 
swish! went the biggest fish they ever saw. 

One old fisherman who lived about two 
miles from there said they had had the same 


38 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

experience there the year before; they saw 
the fish a time or two, but it always got away. 
Others said they had seen it, and it was as 
long as a man. To the men who fished in that 
river, it was known as the Coe-fish, but fish, 
or phantom-fish, it always made good its 
escape. Old settlers stated they never saw it 
in that pool after the flood of 1884. Victor 
told Mollie that it reminded him of the story 
“ The fish I didn’t catch.” They rowed the 
boat to the shore, tied it, and returned to 
their homes. 


CHAPTER IX. 


NANCY LAKE. 

The little log cabin, surrounded with vines 
and roses, that had been the home of Lisita 
ever since she could remember, was wrapped 
in gloom and mystery, when she did not re¬ 
turn with the berries as usual. Her aunt, 
fearing she might have been bitten by a rat¬ 
tlesnake or copperhead, put on her bonnet 
and walked across the field in search of her. 
She could see every brier patch in the field, 
except the one at the top of the hill, near the 
woods. She knew the berries were the largest 
and best up there and thought it was just like 
Lisita to get the nicest, ripest berries, even if 
it were much farther to carry them home. She 
soon reached the top of the hill, but did not 
see anyone, and thinking she might have 
seen her approaching and hid behind a tree 
or some bushes (a childish prank Lisita often 
played), kept looking everywhere. Finally 
she came to a patch of thick briers by a clump 

39 


40 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

of bushes and there sat the bucket, full 
of berries. The briers were broken down 
around as if someone might have been in a 
struggle and then a great fear took hold of 
her lest some wild beast had fought with her. 
But she did not see any pieces of torn clothes, 
or blood, and she knew if it had been a bear 
or panther (of which there were a few in the 
woods at that time), there would likely have 
been both, also tracks. She called loudly now, 
but no answer came, or could come from her 
who was being borne farther and farther 
away from her childhood home. Nancy Lake 
took, the berries and went to the house, closed 
the doors, pulled the latch string in, so that 
no one could open the door from without, sad¬ 
dled Prince and rode swiftly to a neighbor’s 
house, about a mile away, to give the alarm. 
And their boy in turn went to another neigh¬ 
bor to tell him the sad news, that Lisita was 
lost, and by dark a dozen or more were scour¬ 
ing the woods in all directions, with lanterns 
and torches. They searched for miles in every 
direction, and nothing could be found that 
would give any clue, except the fresh track 
of a horse. They followed it a long distance 
and lost it again. It was near midnight when 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 41 

they overtook some hunters on their way 
home. To them they told their story, which 
seemed to be a strange one, as nothing of that 
kind had happened that they could remember, 
except that one old hunter said he “ hearn ” 
some time ago of two boys being treed by a 
“ bar,” and the only way they could keep him 
from climbing the tree too, was by “ jobbin ” 
him on the nose with a limb they broke 
“ offen ” the tree. But help came in time and 
they killed the “ bar ” ‘fore the boys give 
“ plum ” out. 

Another hunter said “ Joe, don’t you mind 
when we started acrost that holler, we hearn 
someone ridin’ so fast and fore we got to the 
rim of the holler, they had crost and gone?” 
“ Well, yes, that’s right but that was full ten 
miles from here, and whoever it might ’a been, 
they wuz in a hurry sure enough.” Some of 
them thought a little strange of this news, and 
others thought nothing about it, for it was so 
far away from there that they had heard it. 

The day was beginning to dawn now and 
far oif to the east they could see faint streaks 
of light, the same faint streaks another be¬ 
held, many miles from there. Those who 
were in the searching party returned to the 


42 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

home of Nancy Lake to tell her the story of 
their night’s search over hill and vale, over 
rocks and logs, through thick woods and 
underbrush, but their search availed little 
or nothing. She and some of the neighbor 
women had prepared a steaming hot break¬ 
fast for those who were aiding in the search 
for the lost girl. They ate with that relish¬ 
ing appetite that belongs only to those who 
take plenty of exercise. They decided that 
Will Kerr, a poor boy of that neighborhood, 
who was thirteen years old, should stay with 
Nancy Lake, and very glad was “ Wip ” as 
they called him, to have such a home and 
plenty to eat at mealtime, without a lot of 
other “ young’ens eatin’ it all up,” as he put it. 

Nancy Lake, a woman forty-three years 
old, was known as one of the best cooks 
and housekeepers in the neighborhood, but 
she seemed slower now under her weight of 
trouble and always seemed kind and motherly 
to little “Wip,” who was ready and willing 
at her command. That night as she lay down 
to sleep, her thoughts flew back to the time 
when a little pink bundle had been handed 
to her with a sister’s last request that she keep 
it as her own, and not open the box (which 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 43 

was tied up with some other things) until 
Lisita was sixteen years old; then she would 
understand and know for herself. But gone, 
as she was, it must always remain a secret. 
She said she hoped Lisita would come home 
again some time. 

“ 0 missus, she will. She’ll cum runnin’ in, 
a smilin’. Yes, when nobody’s a lookin fur 
her. —This bed is so soft and good it feels 
like I’m in a swimmin’,” said “ Wip,” who was 
lying in the middle of a feather bed. Before 
this he had been used to sleeping on straw. 

This made Aunt Nancy smile, and she said, 
“ I hope the great God who watches over all, 
and knows our inmost lives, may search out 
and hover over the home of Lisita and be her 
guide, stay and protector.” With this she 
fell asleep and dreamed Lisita was in a for¬ 
eign land, surrounded with lords and ladies 
who were enchanted with her beauty. 





CHAPTER X. 


LISITA’S NEW HOME. 

When Lisita awoke she was lying on a kind 
of trundle bed in a small apartment with 
walls and ceiling of rock, in which were a 
large trunk, a rustic stand, some books, an 
almanac and some pictures pasted on the rock 
wall, and an old violin hanging from an iron 
peg that had been drilled into the wall in one 
corner. The floor was of sand and rock that 
looked like it had been hewn down on a level 
with the sand. One odd looking oriental rug, 
close by the trundle bed, was the only cover¬ 
ing on the floor. There was a narrow opening 
at the left, leading somewhere, covered by 
bear-skin hanging, and so curious was she to 
see where it led, that she pulled aside the bear¬ 
skin and peered into the dark shadows for 
some time, when she saw a little flickering 
light as if a candle were fluttering and striv¬ 
ing to burn, in that underground cavern. 

She could hear voices too, somewhere, and 

45 


46 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

a great fear overcame her, as she quietly 
slipped back to the trundle bed lest they 
should discover she had been listening. She 
could not tell whether it was night or day, 
but thought it was day for she could hear a 
sound like someone picking against the rock, 
and the sound of an ax hitting against a tree, 
as if someone were cutting wood. She dozed 
off again and dreamed she was back in the 
vine clad cabin of her Aunt Nancy, spinning 
threads that looked like gold, while a guard¬ 
ian angel looked on and smiled. She awoke 
to see the bear-skin hangings pushed aside, 
and an innocent looking blue-eyed boy, brown 
with tan, who looked to be about thirteen 
years of age, came to her bedside with towel 
and rustic basin (hollowed out of wood) with 
clear fresh water in it. 

“Ye kin wash in this, and wipe on this 
towel and there’s a comb on the stan,’ and 
then Granny’ll bring you sumpen t’ eat. That 
rattlesnake cum near gettin’ ye and when 
we found ye we thought hit had when we saw 
you layin’ so close t’ it. But hit bit ole Bonnie 
on the lef’ hine leg. Rex, our houn’, and Un¬ 
cle, killed hit and hit had twenty-five rattles 
an’ a button. We air goin’ to stuff his hide 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 47 

with bran an nen ye can see him and he can’t 
bite.” 

The boy went out, and how delighted she 
was to see this boy! With him for a compan¬ 
ion she felt no harm could come to her. Her 
reverie was broken when she saw a long, bony 
hand putting the bear-skin hangings aside 
and a tall, haggard looking woman appeared 
with her breakfast on a wooden tray. Her 
dark eyes stared with a look of wonder, as 
she said “Whar hev I seed the likes of ye 
afore, only in the Scotch Highlands? The 
very pictur of Lady Teasenbery, and I dinna 
ken, I dinna ken, how it be.” The old lady 
had on a Scotch plaid dress and was clean 
and neat. She tried to smile as she laid the 
tray on a split-bottomed chair, with hickory 
posts. 

On a plate was squirrel fried brown, with 
gravy; apple sauce sweetened with home 
made sugar; corn pone that had just come 
from the oven, and sassafras tea to drink. 
Lisita noticed as she ate the most palatable 
food, that it was served on dishes edged in 
blue. She had heard her Aunt Nancy speak 
of the old willow-ware and she thought of it 
as she looked at the porcelain plate. 


48 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

Lisita did not know it now but learned later 
that it was the real willow pattern which was 
designed in China from an early Chinese love 
match and later introduced in England by 
Thomas Turner of Caughley, about 1780. She 
thanked the old lady kindly for the meal, say¬ 
ing “ It tasted so good. But where am I and 
how can I find my way out?” 

The old lady, who was of Scotch-Irish de¬ 
scent and spoke the Gaelic language with sen¬ 
tences of broken English, shook her head as 
she picked up the tray of empty dishes, 
pushed aside the bear-skin hangings and dis¬ 
appeared noiselessly through the dark tunnel. 
Away back in the narrow, dimly lighted aper¬ 
ture, the following conversation took place: 

“ Do you think she is the right one?” asked 
Robert Thompson. 

“ Na dou’, sir. The very likeness of the 
ancestors and the pictur’,” said the old lady. 

A great fear again overcame Lisita. She 
felt sure no harm would come to her from 
the honest-faced boy and she hoped not from 
the old lady, but what made her look so hag¬ 
gard and so worn? The strange look in her 
eyes when she pushed aside the bear-skin 
hangings and saw her, and the way she spoke 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 49 

of her looking so much like someone she had 
known in Scotland, all made it seem more 
strange and mysterious. She thought again 
that her mind might be wandering—at least, 
she could not solve the problem now. She 
looked at the violin on the rock wall, and won¬ 
dered who played it. She arose and walked to 
where it was hanging, removed it from the 
iron peg and examined it more closely. She 
peered at the inscription inside of it and 
spelled out Antonio Stradavarius, Cremona, 
1720. She wondered if it was the great violin- 
maker’s name, as she realized it was a very 
old make of violin. She touched its strings, 
and as the sweet sounds reached her ear, they 
seemed to fill her soul with gladness. It 
seemed a long time since she left her little 
cabin home, but she knew it had not been 
many days, and this was early in July. She 
did not know what time of day it was, but 
guessed it was near twelve o’clock as the 
chopping had ceased, as well as the picking 
against the rock, that she had heard earlier 
in the day. She walked back to the iron peg 
in the corner and quietly hung up the old 
violin, wondering as she did so, why every¬ 
thing was so still. 


50 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

But just then the bear-skin hangings were 
pushed aside again. Neither the blue-eyed 
boy nor the haggard old lady stood there, but 
an old man with gray hair and beard who 
started as if to speak, but fell at her feet. 


THE OLD HOMESTEAD 










































































































































































CHAPTER XL 


SUNDAY AT COEHERN. 

Coehern never looked more peaceful and 
quiet than it did in the sunshine of this bright 
August morning. The wheat and oats had 
been stacked preparatory to threshing. The 
melons were ripe on the vine, the trees in the 
orchard were swaying under their load of 
ripe fruit, while clusters of purple grapes 
hung from the arbor. Sambo was milking 
the cows, Rachel preparing chicken for din¬ 
ner, while Eph busied himself getting horses 
saddled and the spring wagon and cart in 
readiness for their trip to Millgrove school- 
house, which served as a meetinghouse too. 
Once each month the Circuit Rider would 
meet with them, and at other times Cornelius 
Coewell was looked to as class leader. He 
brought a basket of fresh fruit to the kitchen 
door and told them all to be ready to start 
to meeting in a half hour. Victor, in his store 
clothes, and riding his favorite mare, was al- 

51 


52 MYSTEBY OP THE OLD MILL 

ready off in the direction of the fisherman’s 
hut, leading another mare, with a side-saddle. 
Lucky indeed was the girl who had a friend 
who would bring an extra horse for her, for 
in those early days a horse was not consid¬ 
ered a bargain unless it would carry double. 
Mollie was ready and waiting, in her linen 
dress, home made shoes and straw bonnet but 
one would not dwell long on the apparel when 
they saw such laughing, blue eyes, rosy lips 
and golden hair as belonged to the fisherman’s 
daughter. And deeper yet was the great big 
heart, full of love and sympathy for every¬ 
thing and everybody. She smiled as Victor 
gave her the long black riding skirt, which 
hung two or three feet below her dress, for 
that was the style, and all ladies who rode 
horseback, must pull the skirt well down so 
their clothes would not get soiled, and their 
feet would not show. The right foot and limb 
had to be thrown over the horn of the saddle, 
while the left foot dived into a stirrup hang¬ 
ing from the saddle, that was large enough 
anyway, for the great toe to fit in. 

Victor held the horse while Mollie sprang 
lithely into the saddle, then mounted the 
other himself, and graceful indeed did they 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 53 

look as they rode away, the Coewells follow¬ 
ing closely behind. Roanne and Cornelius 
Coewell, together with the old fisherman, 
were riding in the spring wagon, while Aunt 
Rachel and Uncle Sambo drove leisurely along 
in a two-wheeled, cart, drawn by a mule. 

They wound slowly around the road lead¬ 
ing past the old mill, then by a burying ground 
to the left of the road, and some houses here 
and there, after which they came to a beauti¬ 
ful grove (known as Millgrove), in front of 
which was another burying ground. It was 
here that the pioneers came from miles around 
to worship God, to visit, and place wreaths of 
flowers on the graves of their dead, and to 
meet with each other. Mollie and Victor 
were the first to alight. She walked to her 
mother’s grave and placed a rose upon it, 
saying “ Mother sleeps here. I wonder who 
will put flowers on my grave.” 

Victor took her hand and led her to the 
meeting house door, saying “You will not 
have us put them on your grave yet, will 
you?” She smiled as she went in and seated 
herself on a rude bench on the women’s side 
of the house, while Victor sat down on the 
other side of the aisle. Cornelius Coewell, 


•54 JIYgTERY OP THE OEHiMiLL 

with- Roanne and the old. fisherman, came in, 
and everybody seemed glad to see everybody 
else, as they quietly shook hands around. 

Everybody semed to be gathered in now, 
and it was half past ten when Cornelius Coe- 
well walked leisurely to the front, with Bible 
and hymn book in hand. He outlined the 
hymn, “ Mary to the Saviour’s Tomb,” in 
which all took part in singing, after which he 
read the scripture lesson from Hebrews 11:- 
13-Ephesians 2:8-19. His theme was “ Faith,” 
and the treatment of strangers. “ By faith 
he sojourned in the land of promise, as in a 
strange country.” “ For he looked for a city 
which hath sure foundations, whose builder 
and maker is God.” “ Let brotherly love 
continue.” “ Be not forgetful to entertain 
strangers for thereby some have entertained 
angels unawares.” “ For by grace are ye 
saved through faith and are no more strang¬ 
ers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with 
the saints, and of the household of God.” This 
lesson sank deep into the hearts of two strang¬ 
ers who were in their midst. Cornelius Coe- 
well then led in prayer and others followed. 
The season of prayer closed and they sang 
“ How sweet the name of Jesus sounds in a 


MY^TJiRY OF..TIIK .O-LEk: MIRL ; ,|5 

believer’s ear,” the testimony meeting follow¬ 
ing.! 

The old fisherman was first to speak. Clad 
in fisherman’s garb, in the humble school- 
house of sixty years ago, he was supremely 
happy in a Savior’s love as he told them of 
God’s mercy and goodness toward him. 
“ When me hut crumbles in the dust, will have 
a house not made with hands. And when me 
ole boat nears the shore, and I lay down me 
lines and fish-nets for the last time, may I 
be leanin’ firm on His strong arm, to stedy 
me over the waves, where I’ll meet with me 
loved ones, as well as James and John, the 
fishermen of auld, who laid down their nets by 
the Sea of Galilee, to follow the Savior.” 
“ Together let us sweetly live ” was started by 
an old man in the back of the house, and as it 
strains died away, Victor Coewell arose. He 
told them his aim was to live a wholehearted, 
Christian life, and of the gleam he had caught 
in the woodland which he felt was for him to 
follow on and on, till he could wield a great 
influence for good. 

At this a beautiful brown-eyed maiden, 
(who seemed to be a stranger there) got up. 
How graceful she looked, in the dew of her 



56 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

youth, as she told them she was a stranger 
among them and it is such a consolation to 
know that God is everywhere. All eyes were 
turned toward her, and Roanne Coewell 
shook hands with her, as they sang “ On 
Jordan’s stormy banks I stand.” The tall, 
dark-eyed, dignified stranger who was with 
her, kept his seat but seemed to be moved by 
the testimonies at times during the meeting 
for he was looking back to the fireside of 
other days, to his boyhood home that had so 
•quickly vanished away. 

Mollie arose and said she was a child 
of the King and was glad she started to serve 
the Lord early in life. Uncle Sambo and Aunt 
Rachel who were allowed to go to meeting 
with them some times, as there were not 
enough slaves in that neighborhood to wor¬ 
ship together, spoke as follows: “My deah 
brudders and sistahs! Dis here meetin’ am 
gettin’ so hot dat Sambo can’t keep still 
anoder minnit, and when I knows ob de good 
Lawd a blessin’ me, an’ bein’ good to me all 
de way, I jes’ get plum spiritualisticated and 
all de dance leabes dese feet ob mine, and I 
say ‘ Swing low, sweet Chariot,’ but jes’ den 
dat ole mule I’se adrivin’ cut loose and kicked 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 57 

de front outen my cart wid his hin’ parts, 
den run ahead and I dun plum los’ my religion 
and swore I’d get eben wid dat mule, but he 
kep’ jes’ a lil ahead ob us all de way. But I 
feels now like de Lawd has f’rgiben me, an’ I 
reckon I’ll hab to f’rgib dat mule.” Smiles 
went ’round, and then Aunt Rachel arose and 
said: “ Deah breddern and white folks: 
leaben’ Sambo and de mule out, I’se happy in 
de Lawd. I’se neber bin happier an’ I specks 
to meet yo alls up dere where eberyt’ing is 
shiny and brite. I’se bin treated bad, I’se bin 
put upon, I’se bin made to carry burdens an’ 
take sass from dem lazy niggahs, but thank 
de Lor’ I hab bin able to gib dem as good as 
dey sent.” (Here the smiles went ‘round 
again.) “ And when we all leabes dis meetin’ 
house fer good I hopes we all meet in a great 
big meetin’ house up dar.” Truly Rachel testi¬ 
fied as best she knew how to a saving faith 
in the Atoning Blood and years afterward in 
her last hours here, the black of face, soul- 
white negro, once a slave, sang of Canaan’s 
fair land and talked of the “Great Jubilee.” 
She seemed to hear voices which those around 
her bedside could not hear, as the inaudible 


58 MYSTERY OF,THE ,OU) f M.ILE 

whir of snow-white wings, gently wafted her 

soul to a home beyond the skies. 

After Rachel's testimony many others 
spoke and Cornelius Coewell closed by speak¬ 
ing of the Lord as his strength and shield and 
hoped when the Great Reaper gathered in his 
harvest, he would find no chaff but only the 
finest of wheat in that congregation. They 
then sang “ Praise God, from Whom all Bless¬ 
ings Flow,” the benediction was pronounced, 
and after talking to, and inviting others to 
go home with them, the Coewells started on 
their way home. 

As Victor and Mollie neared the old mill, 
and lingered to watch the sparkling water fall 
over the dam, they saw a couple on the nar¬ 
row road across the creek from the old mill- 
dam, leading up to a narrow path that ran 
along the slope into the woodland. 

“ Those are the strangers whom we saw at 
meeting. They left while we were singing 
the closing hymn,” said Mollie. 

When the Coewells reached home they 
found their dinner of roast chicken, sweet 
potatoes with gravy, apple pies, honey, cake, 
coffee, and brown bread baked in an oven, all 
ready, on the table, but the slaves seemed to 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 59 

be in an uproar. One said “ De debil had bin 
here shure dis time. He hab long, white ha’r 
and beard, and he throw up his hands and 
holler like he wuz plum skeered to def, and I 
run, and he run. Dat’s de las’ I seen ob him.” 

While they ate dinner, they talked of the 
meeting at Millgrove. Victor said, “ Mother, 
did you see the interesting stranger?” 

“ Yes,” and shook her slender hand. 

“ I believe there is something strange going 
on in this neighborhood and if I don’t go to 
school next week, I am going to investigate 
a little for things are too strange and beau¬ 
tiful,” he added with a smile, “to let them 
alone.” 










CHAPTER Xn. 


LISITA’S ABDUCTOR. 

Robert Thompson was a descendant of the 
dark type of Gaelic speaking Celts. He had 
acquired a good education by travel, and asso¬ 
ciation with the higher type of Scotch, Eng¬ 
lish and Irish. He had been private secretary 
to some in the ranks of nobility. The last 
that was known of him in Scotland, he was 
acting as private secretary to William Henry 
Alexander, who had inherited vast estates 
from his grandfather, William Alexander of 
Revolutionary fame, and who was surveyor 
General for New York and New Jersey and 
a lineal descendant of John Alexander, Lord 
of the Isles, who wedded Margaret, daughter 
of King Robert second of Scotland. At his 
death in America, his son, William Henry 
Alexander, became heir to valuable posses¬ 
sions at home and abroad, and he, with his 
son, William, Junior, and private secretary, 
Robert Thompson, spent a great deal of time 
61 


62 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


in England and Scotland. And after his visit 
to America, sixteen years before this, he re¬ 
turned with his private secretary, to his es¬ 
tate in England, near the Cheviot Hills, that 
lie between Scotland and England, leaving 
his son, William, Junior, in this country. He 
seemed loath to cross the waters again with¬ 
out his son, who would inherit the lands at his 
death. 

After a voyage of about five weeks they 
were home again, to the vast estate which 
was cared for by tenants. The old Manor 
house had been left in the care of two trust¬ 
ed servants who had everything in readiness 
for their return. Robert Thompson seemed 
to take great pains in caring for the business, 
and indeed, no one else knew of all the great 
possessions as he did. He knew that William, 
Junior, from whom they had not heard any¬ 
thing since they parted at New York, would 
fall heir to all these possessions. He noticed 
in a year after their return to England that 
the old gentleman was failing in health. The 
servants, too, noticed it and spoke to him 
about it. It was here that a thought entered 
the mind of Robert Thompson, who had been 
spending most all his time away from the 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 63 

old gentleman, often returning at midnight, 
or after. The servants had had some mis¬ 
givings about him and wondered where he 
could be spending so much time late at night, 
unless at some gambling den. He would go 
to London and spend several days. 

William Henry Alexander had taught violin 
in his earlier days, but now devoted a great 
deal of his time to writing books and poems. 
He had been a very shrewd business man in 
years past, but had gradually given the busi¬ 
ness over almost entirely to the management 
of his private secretary. He often wondered 
why Robert Thompson was spending so much 
of his time of late in London and Edinburg. 
His secretary had dealt honestly with him so 
far as he knew, and he trusted him to draw 
on his monthly salary as he needed it. And 
it was said among Mr. Alexander’s relatives, 
his secretary would likely become heir to the 
most of his possessions if the real heir was 
not found. On returning from London late 
one night, Robert Thompson, instead of re¬ 
tiring, meditated long as he sat by the peat 
fire; and here temptation entered his mind. 
He had everything in readiness—records, 
deeds, will, and only one living heir from 


64 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

whom they had not heard anything for six¬ 
teen years. Robert Thompson yielded to 
temptation and contrived a scheme to get 
hold of the wealth of his employer. We will 
see how it all ends. 

As they were seated at the breakfast table 
next morning, Robert Thompson talked long 
and earnestly to the old gentleman who 
seemed to be aging rapidly of late. In July 
the hottest part of the Summer, he recom¬ 
mended a trip to the Highlands, far to the 
north, where with a trusty servant, they 
could stay until early Autumn. The old 
gentleman studied the situation over and fin¬ 
ally consented to go. It was decided that 
they would have everything in readiness for 
the trip by the last of July. Joan Campbell 
was a servant who had been in the employ of 
Henry Alexander’s father a few years before 
his death, after which she had lived in the 
home of his son as housekeeper. Robert 
Thompson chose her as a servant to accom¬ 
pany them on their trip, for he well knew he 
could trust Joan to do his bidding. The rest 
of the servants and tenants were left to care 
for the estate. 

A grandson of Joan Campbell’s, in whom 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 6 b 

she seemed to be greatly interested, was to 
go along, and Jamie Campbell was in a flurry 
of excitement at the thought of going to the 
hills, where they could live in a tent out in the 
open, or climb to the highest peaks and watch 
the smoke curl up from the peat fires of the 
white-washed, clay cottages, in the green 
valleys 

Jamie Campbell, who loved outdoor life, 
had been wont to roam through the heather 
and find where the heath hen made her nest 
in the heather grass on the moor. He knew 
the well beaten path to the peat bog, where 
he often gathered the peat moss and turf, to 
be dried for fuel. He had played on the banks 
of the Esk, and scattered the heather bloom 
and wild primroses upon its smiling waters, 
but now was in ecstacies to think of leaving 
the well known paths for those that were new, 
where he could roam at will, chase the wild 
deer through the woodland, while the stars 
would smile upon him, as the stock-dove, the 
lap-wing and the black-bird of the North, 
whose haunts he would seek, were calling to 
their mates. Yes, his way would be to the 
North for a time; then far, far to the West, 
through the English Channel, across the 


66 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

broad, blue waters of the Atlantic, where he 
would find all strange and new, indeed. 

As was agreed, all were ready for their 
trip to the Highlands on the following Mon¬ 
day. On the evening before, after the trunks 
had been packed, everything in readiness and 
all had retired for the night except Joan, she 
stole softly across the sitting-room to an old 
painting, representing the Stuart Kings, 
which had hung there for many years. She 
removed it from the wall, and concealed be¬ 
hind it was a small door that opened into the 
wall. She pushed a buton and a tiny door slid 
upward, revealing a pocket in the wall from 
which she took out a letter, and a picture of 
some one, and placed them in her trunk. She 
closed the tiny door, re-hung the painting and 
went up to where Jamie was asleep in the 
attic. 

“ Sleep wall, wee wan, sleep wall. Ye’ll be 
far on the road o’er the braes when the hunts¬ 
man’s in the woods. Ye’ll sleep far away, and 
na, dou’, furever. Auld ye’ll be when ye see 
the highlands ag’in, if ever.” With this she 
turned and went to her room. 

They were awakened early the next morn¬ 
ing by one of the servants who told them 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 67 

everything was in readiness for their trip. 
After a light breakfast, William Henry Alex¬ 
ander, wrapped in a heavy coat, stepped out 
into the gray dawn from the threshold of his 
home, followed by Robert Thompson, Joan 
and Jamie Campbell, while the large deer¬ 
hound trailed along behind. They were driv¬ 
en in a light, covered wagon, while their 
trunks and baggage were brought by one of 
the tenants in a heavier wagon. Instead of 
going very far north, after a day’s travel, 
they went due west, and after dark on the 
evening of the third day, William Alexander 
realized he was on the seashore instead of in 
the Highlands. And as he heard the churl of 
the waters against the vessel, he was given a 
glass of wine that made him sleep, and he 
knew no more until they were far out at sea. 
He was kept in a room by himself and 
watched closely by his private secretary, or 
Joan Campbell. If on waking he made a fuss, 
he was given more wine, and inquiring pas¬ 
sengers were told he was sea-sick. They were 
eight weeks on this voyage, and landed in 
New York in October. 

They rented a house on the outskirts of the 
town, in a secluded place where they spent 


68 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

the winter. The landlord knew they were of 
Seotch-Irish descent, and he being from Ire¬ 
land seemed greatly interested in the old 
gentleman whom they said had come across 
for a change of climate and scenery that 
would be good for his mind, which was very 
bad at times. Early in April they left their 
little cottage and travelled through to what 
is now West Virginia, where they are pic¬ 
tured in an earlier chapter, in a lonely cavern, 
with Lisita in their midst. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


VICTOR COEWELL FOLLOWS 
THE GLEAM. 

Early one morning in the mild September, 
Victor Coewell walked down the lane toward 
the river. He drew a harp from his pocket 
and played sweet notes as he walked away, 
that floated back on the still morning air, to 
his mother’s ear. How sweet it sounded to 
her, as he went farther and farther away, 
until she could hear it no more. She knew 
that Victor was going far away, yet she want¬ 
ed him to go and learn so that he might be 
able to do his work intelligently and be a suc¬ 
cessful man in his chosen field, which was the 
study of medicine. He walked about three 
miles and arrived in time to catch the first 
boat down the river. At this time steam¬ 
boats ran occasionally on this river at “ boat¬ 
ing stage ” but the customary way of travel 
for “ raftsmen ” on their return trip to the 
back counties was on foot, and many “up 

69 


70 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

river” people often walked to Parkersburg, 
though some travelled on horseback or in 
wagons and a few in buggies. The boat 
reached Parkersburg about dark of the same 
evening, and some time in the night he took 
a train for Baltimore, where he was going 
to study and work with an old and eminent 
physician by the name of Melvin Brooks. The 
old physician and Cornelius Coewell had met 
in their younger days, but had drifted apart, 
Melvin going out to Maryland with his uncle, 
where he read and studied medical books and 
took up the practice of medicine. Experience 
had taught him much, and one was fortunate 
indeed, to learn the great medical profession 
under such an eminent guide. 

The arrangements had been made before 
and the old doctor met Victor at the depot. 
As they stepped from the platform, a colored 
man was in waiting, with two thoroughbreds 
hitched to a cab—in this they were driven 
to the home of Dr. Brooks, about & mile out 
of town. The drive was a pleasant one, but 
short and they soon alighted in front of a well 
kept cottage, surrounded by trees. The neat¬ 
ness of everything there, appealed to Victor. 
They were met at the stone steps by a negro 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 71 

servant, who looked very neat and clean. He 
bowed politely, as he took the valise and medi¬ 
cine case, then turned and led the way inside. 
He set down the case and hung up their hats 
and overcoats, and showed them into the 
pleasant litle sitting room, where a wood fire 
was crackling in the little colored grate. They 
sat by the fire for a few minutes, and the 
negro servant returned and touched Victor 
on the arm and led him away to his room, 
where a wash bowl and towel were ready for 
use. The negro helped to brush his clothes, 
as he said, “ I’se glad you likes to spruce up, 
cause dey’s moighty proud at dis place, dey 
am sho.’ And Miss Constance do hab some 
slick looking beaux on her string, yes, sah!” 

Victor noticed that their slaves were much 
better trained and more careful than any he 
had known before he came to Maryland. Sup¬ 
per was announced and he was shown into the 
dinning room, where a dainty supper was 
ready. A dignified looking woman, who wore 
glasses and looked to be about fifty years of 
age, was introduced as Madam Brooks. She 
bowed and introduced her daughter Con¬ 
stance, who also bowed politely, and they all 
sat down to supper. 


72 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

Victor was almost tempted to give way to 
embarrassment for a time, but this overcome, 
that steel nerve never faltered until he had 
eaten a hearty meal. Dr. Brooks spoke of 
Victor’s father, who had been a school mate 
for a few weeks in the old log school house in 
Hampshire County, now West Virginia, and 
had drifted farther to the western part of 
the state, where he met and married the beau¬ 
tiful Roanne Thorpe. He said he visited 
them shortly after they had gone to house¬ 
keeping in Gilmer County, before he went 
away to Maryland. 

Constance looked up and said, “ If you 
learn to doctor with Papa, you will certainly 
be busy.” To which he replied, “ I find pleas¬ 
ure in employment.” 

They arose from the table and the old doc¬ 
tor said, as he looked at Victor, “ The same 
stalwart form of Cornelius, combined with 
the disposition and graceful manners of his 
mother.” 

After supper they sat in the pleasant little 
sitting room, while Melvin Brooks reviewed 
many instances of their early school days, 
telling them of the little old, log school house, 
with greased paper for window lights, and 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MTTJ, 73 

split saplings, with the flat side up, for seats. 
Into the underneath side, so many holes were 
bored, for the legs they were to stand on. The 
pupils had to stand for recitation, and studied 
aloud. They all spelled words together in a 
sing-song tone. “ Grandmother told me when 
I was a little boy, that when she went to school 
the teacher would call them to recitation, and 
spin while they all had to stand with their 
toes even with a crack in the floor and recited 
the lesson aloud. Each family was supposed 
to haul one load of wood for school, and if 
they failed to do this, their children often 
went cold.” Victor said “ Father often speaks 
of his old school days, too.” “ Ah, yes, they 
were good old days,” said the doctor, “ when 
we went home to find Mother and the younger 
ones, around the big, wide, fireplace, that is 
vacant now. Then we’d put on a big beech 
or hickory back-log, while the “iron-dogs” 
held the fore-stick from rolling on the hearth, 
and the finer wood was piled up high between. 
The blaze from it lit up our cabin of logs, and 
made it a center of light and beauty. As the 
flames burned higher and higher, they made 
pictures on the walls of memory and seemed 
to intermingle with the flame of love that 


74 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

bound us together as one family, when the 
circle was unbroken. Then we climbed the 
pegs at the side of the wall, that led to the 
loft where we slept soundly, with no dreams 
of loud awakenings, as I hear now, save that 
of the wild-cat and panther, which we did not 
fear unless they came too close, and then we 
built a big fire outside to make them go away. 
Yes, they were very good old times, but 
they’re gone, sir, and the life I have now is 
a busy one and full of care.” 

Victor was very favorably impressed with 
the old doctor and his family. He hoped the 
conversation might go on but just then a 
knock was heard on the door. It was a call 
for the doctor, who turned to Victor and 
said, “Are you too tired for a trip?” “No, 
I will be glad to accompany you.” 

So, in the year 1859, when the first oil well 
was started by the laborious springpole 
method, on the Rathbone tract, near the pres¬ 
ent site of Burning Springs, now West Vir¬ 
ginia, Victor Coewell, from the little Moun¬ 
tain State, who was to be one of the strongest 
men of the medical profession of that early 
day, was constantly with the old doctor, out 
in Maryland, assisting him and learning 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 75 

many things that were new to him, and in 
after years he was able to improve on them 
very much. On the following day he wrote 
a letter to his mother and told her he would 
be home for Thanksgiving and the husking- 
bee, as he wrote he could not keep from 
thinking of some of the strange happenings 
that had taken place in and around his own 
home recently. He wrote “ Tell Sambo to keep 
a close watch out and we will make some in¬ 
vestigations when I get home.” There were 
other things beside the mystery of the old 
mill that he would seek to find out. He closed 
with this, and turned to see Constance at his 
side. She told him her father was waiting 
for him to go to town. He tipped his hat as 
he left her, and was soon out of sight. 















CHAPTER XIV. 


LISITA’S TEACHER. 

Lisita was very much frightened at the old 
man’s sudden appearance, and more so at his 
strange actions. He seemed to be mumbling 
over something to himself, as he lay there on 
the rock floor. As soon as she recovered 
from the shock he gave her, she took the 
pitcher of water from the rustic stand and 
bathed his forehead, also giving him a drink. 
In a few minutes, with her assistance, he was 
able to get up and sit in a chair. He was a 
kind looking old man, with long white beard, 
and dark brown eyes. He wore a suit of fine, 
black clothes, and calfskin boots. He reached 
out a trembling hand for another glass of 
water which he said was better than the 
water he had been drinking, as indeed it was, 
for they had been drugging the water he 
drank. He looked straight at Lisita and said, 
“ You are young and very beautiful—yes, too 
beautiful to ‘hide your light under a bushel’— 

77 


78 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

why do you live in this underground cavern, 
where it is dark and damp, when nature is 
calling and the glad sunlight is flooding all 
the hilltops?” 

“ Oh, I am not going to live here long, I 
hope, I did not come of my own accord. I 
was—” She stopped short as the bearskin 
hangings were quickly thrust aside and 
Robert Thompson stood before them. He was 
confused but calmed himself enough to smile 
at Lisita, and say to the old man, “Why, 
Father, I did not know you were able to be 
out of your room.” The old man scowled at 
him as he led him away, and when they had 
reached a small aperture leading from the 
main cave, on the opposite side from Lisita’s 
room, he stamped his foot and warned the old 
man never to let out the secret, and if he did, 
his bones might be left to bleach in the depths 
of the cave. 

“I am Robert Brown, and you are my 
father. Do you understand that, old man?” 

The old man nodded assent. He had learned 
to fear Robert Thompson since he had been 
treated so cruelly at his hands and all he 
could do now was to obey commands, but 
down deep in his very life was burning a 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 79 

great desire for revenge. Robert Thompson 
turned as he went out, and said “ If you will 
play the part of my father well, it will add 
much happiness to your life, and if I know you 
will keep the secret, you can go outside and 
teach the girl I have here, out of your store 
of knowledge.” The old man nodded again, 
and Robert Thompson, who was to be called 
Robert Brown, left him. He went from there 
to Lisita’s room and found her eating dinner. 
She had just finished eating the ham of a 
squirrel, but would not eat any more after 
he came in. 

“ I do not like to be shut up and waited on. 
Why don’t you let me do something for my¬ 
self?,” asked Lisita. 

At this he promised her she could roam at 
will with his father if she would not tell who 
she was nor how she came to be there. She 
asked if she could take his father some 
dinner. 

“You may do this, and after dinner take 
him for a walk if you like, but remember what 
I told you, and if we go in company, I am your 
brother. You see we must be one family, and 
much depends on how well each one does his 
part, and if I find anyone is untrue to the 


80 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

part they play, they will be punished 
severely.” 

Just then Jamie brough in a tray with 
squirrel and gravy, coffee, brown bread and 
fruit, for Grandpa, as he called him. “ Come, 
and I’ll show you the way,” he said to Lisita, 
as she arose and followed him past the bear¬ 
skin hangings to the narrow passage outside 
that led to the main cave, and then through 
a narrow passage to the old man’s room. His 
room was small, with the same rock wall and 
floor, but was almost round in shape, with an 
opening at the farther side. Drawn up close 
to his bed was an old cedar chest, and at the 
other side was a small table and a rocking 
chair. His pipe lay on the table, also a Bible 
and some other books. There was a wooden 
tray, with some water in it. He washed, and 
combed his hair, and was waiting for dinner. 
He looked at his watch—it was half past 
twelve. 

Lisita was so kind to him, as she spread 
a cloth and placed everything where it would 
be convenient for him. He ate heartier than 
usual and Jamie said “ Grandpa, le’s go to 
the woods. Hit’ll not be long now till the 
chestnuts are ripe, and I know where there’s 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 81 

lots of grapes. I’ll bring Granny some wood 
and water, an’ we’ll all go. I’ll show ye the 
way.” 

So in about a half hour, Lisita, Grandpa 
and Jamie were outside the cave, headed for 
the deepest woods. How nice it was to be in 
the fresh air and sunshine again! Lisita al¬ 
most forgot her troubles, while she gathered 
moss and lichens. Jamie was in an ecstacy of 
delight to have others with him in the woods, 
for there was no other place he loved so well. 
He picked up a small terrapin and car¬ 
ried it along, and when he saw a blacksnake 
chasing a lizard, he was so much excited over 
the race that he slipped the terrapin into his 
linen pocket. He did not think of it for a 
time, but he remembered it very well when it 
began to move around. He tried to pull it 
out but was afraid it might bite him, for 
he thought they would bite. Jamie ran up 
to where the old man and Lisita were gath¬ 
ering “ turkey berries,” overhanging a rock 
and asked if they thought it would thunder 
soon. Then he told them the terrapin was 
moving around in his pocket, and Granny 
says “ if they bite they won’t let go till thun¬ 
der comes.” At this the old man handed him 


82 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

his knife and he severed his pocket, and said: 
“ I’ll tell Granny hit didna’ git a chance—hit 
let go wi’ me pocket.” And the terrapin thus 
released soon found its way out of the pocket 
and slowly retraced the ground over which 
it had been so snugly carried. 

The old man seemed to be growing young 
again, and he laughed heartily at Jamie, who 
soon forgot his troubles. In a little while 
they came to a moss covered dell, near where 
a large grapevine was hanging from a tree, 
at the edge of a cliff of rocks. Jamie caught 
hold of this and swung far out over the cliff. 
Lisita was gathering wild grapes, while the 
old man was walking along a path which he 
took to be an old Indian trail. They followed 
it on and on till they came out into the open, 
and when they came on higher ground they 
could see a stream of beautiful, clear water, 
with a milldam across it. They had left the 
boy swinging, and followed the trail to the 
open, while the boy thought they had started 
home, so he went home. 

It was getting late when Jamie returned 
to the cave and Lisita and the old man were 
not there. He told Uncle, (as he called Robert 
Thompson), about it, and Thompson sent him 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 83 

at once to search for them. It was so dark now 
one could not see the way and Jamie was fix¬ 
ing to light a torch when he heard voices close 
by. He was glad indeed to find them on that 
lonesome hill, and they also were glad to have 
a light to frighten any wild beasts that might 
cross their path. As they started to leave the 
ridge for the lower ground, a mysterious 
sound came to their ears, from the direction 
of the old mill. 

“ Hark—what is that?,” said the old man. 
“Not any beast I ever heard before—some¬ 
thing like the cry of a panther, but lower and 
sadder.” 

They all looked at each other, and followed 
the Indian trail to the valley below. The 
old man seemed to gain strength every day, 
as he taught Lisita many things, but the les¬ 
sons on the old violin she liked best. So each 
day she followed his instructions and was 
very happy as she sat on the rustic seat in the 
wildwood, holding the instrument as he had 
taught her, while its sweet notes died away in 
the depths of the forest, floating on and on, 
as if to awaken a response from the very 
heart of its hidden depths. 












































































THE GRANARY AND INDIAN REST 






































































































' 



























CHAPTER XV. 


SAMBO MAKES A DISCOVERY. 

Coehern laid out in all her majestic beauty 
on this Autumnal day. Some of the trees 
were wearing bright red coats, while the pop¬ 
lar wore its golden yellow, and the oak a 
somber hue. The dahlias lifted their velvety 
heads; and who can say which was the most 
beautiful—the red, the yellow, the purple, the 
white, or the variegated? We will leave them 
there to vie with each other in that bower of 
beauty, near a cluster of chrysanthemums of 
white, yellow and purple, that grew by the 
side of the house. 

East of the house, overlooking the river, 
a large field was being plowed preparatory 
to sowing wheat. Cornelius Coewell was 
assisting an old trusty hand at picking and 
sorting apples, while Eph hauled them in and 
put them in their proper bins. Others were 
hulling walnuts under the trees, where they 
were left to dry before storing away. Sambo 

85 


86 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


was on his way, driving a long line of heavy 
oxen to the timberland above the hill-field, 
where some men were felling trees for cross¬ 
ties and sawlogs. The limbs and branches 
that were too small for ties or logs, were 
chopped and sawed into the right length for 
fire-wood. This they would haul home in the 
evening and store it in the wood-yard where 
so many cords of wood were piled between 
stakes. Sambo drove the eight head of oxen 
leisurely through the fence, that had been 
laid down for him, and on to where the men 
were chopping mightily against the sturdy 
trees. 

“Well, I guess you took your time this 
morning, Sambo. We have enough logs cut 
to keep you and them oxen busy all week,” 
said one of the wood-choppers. 

“ Yas, dem oxen do trabble a lil’ slow. Yo’ 
see yo’ can hurry a hoss, and a man ’ats bin 
to his neighbor’s chicken roost ’ll hurry hissef, 
but dem oxes, dey jes plum hab to go slo’ and 
when yo’ doan gib ’em dere time, dey take hit 
anyhow.” 

At this he drove up and hitched to a log 
and started to the roll-away, on a hill over¬ 
looking the river, about a quarter of a mile 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 87 

from where the men were chopping. This he 
kept up all day and in the evening the men 
rolled them over the steep hill to the lower 
ground near the river bank where they left 
them till the water got high enough to float 
them out. Sambo was glad when quitting 
time came, for it was too close to the old mill 
to suit him, especially in the evening. He had 
heard one of the wood choppers say a man 
from Bear Creek told him he had been to 
town a day or two before and was late get¬ 
ting back, and sat down on the old mill rock 
(the round flat stone that laid in front of the 
mill), by the roadside, to rest. He sat there 
a few minutes admiring the beauty of the 
moonlight night, when he looked up the road 
near where a burying ground lies to the left, 
and saw a man coming toward him. He was 
walking rapidly and he kept a close watch on 
him, but just as he was getting close enough 
to see him plainly, he disappeared. 

The man got up from the mill rock and 
walked to where he saw the man and searched 
the bushes skirting the road but no trace 
of him could be found. He went on up the 
road till he came to a house and asked if they 
had seen anyone pass by. They said they had 


88 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


not, nor had not heard their dogs bark that 
night, as they always did when anyone was 
approaching, so the traveller must have come 
from elsewhere. They did not seem to want 
to investigate any farther, and the man from 
Bear Creek went on home. But when he 
reached the top of the hill about a mile from 
Millgrove, he heard a strange sound that 
seemed to come from the vicinity of the old 
mill. 

“Fo’ de Lor’,” said Sambo. "I dun tole 
dem Co’els da am gost’s close and to be ready 
fo’ de wust, cause de Kingdom am a cummin’ 
sho\” 

That afternoon the old fisherman came 
Over to help pick apples, bringing Mollie to 
assist Roanne Coewell at the spinning-wheel. 
As they walked away to the orchard, the hum 
of the spinning-wheel could be heard in the 
house. Soon they stood beneath a large Rome 
beauty tree, and Cornelius said to the fisher¬ 
man “ We have already picked twenty bushels 
from this tree;” and the fisherman replied, 
“ You hev made a gude beginning shore. The 
fruit wuz a hit this year without a doubt.” 

When they had finished picking the apples 
on that tree, Cornelius Coewell told the old 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 89 

fisherman to walk across the meadow with 
him to the new ground patch of sweet pota¬ 
toes. He wanted to see if the vines had been 
cut loose for he was afraid it would frost be¬ 
fore he got them dug. They looked over the 
patch and dug some of them to fill their 
baskets. The old fisherman said, “Wall, I’ll 
declare! Ye’ll hev nigh onto fifty bushel ov 
them yams if they turn out this guid.” The 
old fisherman and Cornelius Coewell were 
good friends and as they neared the house 
they sat down on a little knoll, over from the 
orchard, while Cornelius told the old fisher¬ 
man about the strange actions of the slaves 
who were left to take care of things the Sun¬ 
day they were at the meeting at Millgrove. 

“ Why, when we reached home, everything 
was excitement. They all said they saw an 
old man with gray hair and beard, who tore 
his hair and ran off to the woods. I can’t 
help but think strange of it, though I’m not 
a believer in supernatural things. With some 
effort we got them quieted down, but some of 
our slaves won’t step outside after dark.” 

“Wall,” said the old fisherman,” it is 
strange, very strange. I wuz dreamin’ the 
other night and I thought the waters were 


90 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

dryin’ up, nor did’nt look clear no more, and 
a great big fish come out of the water and 
swallered the land. Cornelius, I believe God 
sends dreams to his children now, same as ov 
auld, if they could jest understand the mean- 
in’ ov ’em. 

“ Well, may be we don’t walk close enough 
by His side, to hear the Still Small Voice at all 
times, that guides us aright,” said Mr. Coe- 
well. 

“ Wall, may be,” said the old fisherman, as 
they arose to go. 

When they neared the house again they 
heard the humming of the spinning wheel and 
peeped in at the door, to see Mollie busily 
spinning the thread for Roanne Coewell to 
weave into cloth for a dress for Mollie, 
which, dyed with indigo, would be as blue as 
her laughing eyes. Aunt Rachel’s voice could 
be heard from the kitchen, while the odors 
of baked ham floated out. 

“ Come along, yo’ lazy niggers, wid dat 
wood and water, er all dem white trash’ll be 
moanin’ case dey’s no supper. Hurry along 
and gib dis colored lady a chance to put dat 
brown finish on dem taters an’ ham an’ bread 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 91 

in de oben.” With this she began to sing 
“ Roll on, Chariot.” 

Just then the wood-choppers were seen 
coming down through the hill field. Sambo 
was the last one to get home and was very 
much excited as he told them he saw a man 
and a very large hound in the woods. The man 
was carrying an axe and seemed to be hurry¬ 
ing to the lower ground. Sambo left his oxen 
in the low gap and walked out along the ridge, 
where he could see the man running down the 
hollow, where he disappeared all at once. It 
was nearly dark when Sambo drove the oxen 
into the barnyard. He unyoked them, 
watered and fed them, then took in a load of 
wood and piled it on the fire. The rest had 
finished eating supper and were sitting in 
the room around the fire when Cornelius Coe- 
well looked up and saw a stranger at the door. 








































CHAPTER XVI. 


A LAND DEAL. 

The stranger was tall and rather dignified 
looking, with dark hair and eyes. He was 
well dressed, and wore high-topped riding 
boots, Cornelius Coewell arose and walked 
toward the door, extending a friendly hand 
to welcome the stranger, for the Coewells 
were known far and wide for their hospitality, 
and no stranger ever left their gates without 
feeling, way down deep in the heart, that this 
was a real home. The stranger shook hands 
with Cornelius Coewell, then removed his hat, 
saying, “ My name is Brown,” as he entered 
the door and shook hands with the rest as he 
was presented to them. The first thought 
that entered their minds was that he might 
be a school teacher, and had come to investi¬ 
gate about the Millgrove school. 

“ My home is in Pennsylvania,” he said. 
“We live near the foot of the Allegheny 
Mountains. My father used to buy cattle 

93 


94 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


through this country, and I passed through 
here in the summer, on the same business. I 
was going past a school house one Sunday 
morning, was really tired, having been in the 
saddle so long, and I alighted and went in. I 
never regretted it for it was the best meeting 
I ever was in.” 

“Well, since you remind me of it, I believe 
I remember two strangers who came to meet¬ 
ing at Millgrove. A man and a young and 
beautiful girl,” said Roanne Coewell. 

“ Yes, that was my sister, and she liked the 
country so well she almost persuaded me to 
try to buy a piece of land around here. My 
father is getting old and is not in very good 
health and we think the change would be good 
for him. We have a large farm in Pennsyl¬ 
vania, but can sell it at a fair price any time; 
had a buyer before I left.” 

The conversation was broken by Roanne 
Coewell, who invited him to supper. 

“ Thank you,” said the stranger. “ I really 
am very hungry.” 

He ate rapidly but did not fail to notice the 
congeniality of that home and the laughing 
blue eyes of the fisherman’s daughter that 
were turned kindly toward him, as were 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 95 

those of Roanne Coewell, for they who were 
true to the right were not loking for treach¬ 
ery in another. As the two women stood 
there it made him think, for a moment, of his 
own mother and sister who were far over the 
ocean, but his thoughts were almost wholly 
on the scheme he had planned and was most 
sure it would work for he saw they were 
favorably impressed iwth him. He felt of 
his pocket to see if the wallet filled with 
gold, was still there. Yes, it was there— 
the very gold that William Alexander had 
placed in the old cedar chest years ago, across 
the sea. He felt sure Mr. Alexander meant 
to give it to his son if he ever returned but 
now that he has things in his possession, he 
would use the gold as he pleased. After as¬ 
suring himself that the gold was in his pocket, 
he arose and went into the sitting room, 
studying just how to approach Mr. Coewell 
on the land deal. When he reached the sitting 
room he found Mr. Coewell smoking, and as 
he puffed on his pipe, the smoke from it curled 
up in wreaths and was drawn toward the 
chimney and taken up with the flames. So 
Thompson too drew a chair up close, filled his 
pipe with tobacco, took a shovel from the cor- 


96 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

ner and laid a small coal of fire on top of it, 
and said, as he puffed away on his pipe: “ I 
used to follow school-teaching, but somehow 
got away from it.” 

“ Well, that is what we thought you were 
when you came in,” said Mrs. Coewell, who 
had been a teacher in her younger days. 

“ I wouldn’t mind to teach this winter if I 
could get a piece of land, and a house on it 
before cold weather. I suppose you would not 
have any land to sell, say from twenty to fifty 
acres or more, that you would sell?” 

They all liked the stranger’s appearance 
and Cornelius Coewell replied that he might 
sell fifty acres of that woods land in the hol¬ 
low toward the old mill. At this the stran¬ 
ger’s eyes sparkled for this of all was the 
very land he wanted most. 

“ Well, if I build on the lower ground that 
would make me about a mile and a half from 
the school house.” 

“ Well, yes, if you build in the Cave hollow, 
as we used to call it. I haven’t been through 
there for several years. Expect it is thick 
with underbrush now, though if I remember 
right, there were some pretty little knolls 
along the side of a little stream of water. 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 97 

You’ll find plenty of timber suitable to build 
with, and a small house will do at first, if 
your family is not too large,” said Mr. Coe- 
well. 

“Just father, sister, Aunt and her grand¬ 
son, and myself, are all of us, though we al¬ 
most count our old grey-hound as one of us,” 
answered the stranger. 

“ Do you like to hunt? I have a son who is 
very fond of the chase. He is off studying, 
and learning to be a doctor,” said Mr. Coewell. 

This almost gave the stranger a chill for he 
had not expected to see such advancement in 
the “ backwoods,” as he termed it. 

“ Yes, I too, am very fond of the chase. Are 
there many deer in the woods now?” 

“ Yes, a few. It hasn’t been very long since 
I saw some three or four running along at the 
edge of the woods near the low gap. There are 
some wild turkeys too, but they are very hard 
to get.” 

It was agreed that the stranger would stay 
all night and they would look over the land 
in the morning. They retired for the night 
and as usual, the Coewells were up bright and 
early. After breakfast Cornelius Coewell 
and the stranger rode off to look over the 


98 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

land. The old fisherman saw them as they 
rode off, and he shook his head and said 
“ Wher’ hev I seed that pony? Somewher’ 
I’m shore.” 

Aunt Rachel stopped and said “ De Gud 
Book tells me I had to watch, as well as pray, 
an’ I’se bin watchin’ and dey’s bin a prayin’, 
and I specks dey had better bin a watchin’ 
some too, case I doan like no hasty dealin’s 
wid slick talkin’ gemmen. Laws a massy, 
what’s dis?” 

She picked up a leather wallet and peered 
in to see it full of shining gold pieces. Roanne 
Coewell told Sambo to follow them on the hill 
and see if the man had lost it. He met the 
stranger coming toward the house as though 
he was looking for something. Sambo asked if 
the wallet was his. It pleased the stranger 
so much that he gave Sambo a gold piece. He 
went back to where Cornelius Coewell was 
waiting, and they rode to the top of the hill 
where they could get a good view of the land. 
After looking it over Mr. Coewell told the 
stranger he might have fifty acres in Cave 
Hollow for five dollars per acre. The stranger 
paid him ten dollars to bind the bargain, and 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


99 


as agreed, they met before a Notary on the 
following day and closed the deal. 

That evening the Coewells received a letter 
from Cecil Cox saying they had arrived in 
New York and would visit them soon. 








CHAPTER XVII. 


NO LONGER SQUATTERS. 

Robert Thompson, who now went by the 
name of Brown, was very much elated over 
the land deal, for who could say the valuable 
timber lands, the Indian cave, and many other 
things of great value, were not his own? 
After the land deal was closed he shook hands 
with Cornelius Coewell and told him they 
might erect a temporary cabin on it soon, for 
they wanted to get moved in before the 
weather got bad. 

“Well, that is with you, sir. Just any time 
that suits you, and if you let us know, we will 
assist you at the log-rolling. We are favor¬ 
ably impressed with you, and we hope you will 
be a benefit to our community,” said Mr. Coe¬ 
well. 

“I think we can soon build a small cabin 
that will do to live in, until we can do better.” 

“ That’s just the way to do. Many of the 
early pioneers came in with hardly anything, 
101 


102 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

it seems, to do with, yet it was not long until 
the smoke would curl up from their little cab¬ 
in, and a clearing would soon be made, where 
you could see a field of Indian corn growing, 
with woods all around it.” 

“ Good day,” said Robert Thompson, as he 
mounted the brown pony, and it never made 
better time but once before and that was 
when it carried a maiden, wearing a brown 
shawl, up the road leading past the old mill. 
He felt he had played his part well so far, 
and must continue to do so. He soon alighted 
in front of the cave, handed the bridle reins 
to Jamie who led the pony away to a shed 
covered with boughs, while Robert Thompson 
walked around as though he was really look¬ 
ing for something but he was only looking for 
a site on which to build a cabin. He walked 
a little distance from the cave, on the same 
side of the hollow, and stood on an eminence 
overloooking, or even with, the ground above 
the cave. This is the very place, thought he 
and as he turned to go, he heard the strains 
of a violin. It sounded like the notes of a 
bird, and then low and soft like the cooing of 
a dove. He looked across the hollow, where, 
seated on a fallen log, Lisita, with bowed 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 103 

head, was wielding the bow, while William 
Henry Alexander, with sheet of music before 
him on two forked sticks, kept time to the 
music. 

“ There, that will do. Every note was per¬ 
fect. I will teach you the ‘Fisher’s Hornpipe’ 
next lesson.” 

Lisita got up and started for the cave, 
plucking here and there a red, yellow or 
orange leaf to sear over with rosin for a win¬ 
ter bouquet. She looked up over the cave and 
saw Robert Thompson, who had been watch¬ 
ing them for some time. She walked back to 
where the old man sat on the log with open 
book in hand and said, “ I don’t like that man 
and I wonder why he watches me so closely.” 

“ You must be silent as a mouse, little one. 
It will all be right some day, I hope.” 

The old gentleman had an open Bible in 
hand from which he often read, and told her 
stories. He taught her grammar as well, and 
she was learning to use good English by be¬ 
ing with one who knew how to speak it cor¬ 
rectly. 

How beautiful she looks, thought Robert 
Thompson, while she sat on the ground and 
looked up into the old man’s face, as a child 


104 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

would look to a father. Her brown hair and 
eyes shone with a lustrous beauty, and her 
fair face was aglow with the light of health. 
Joan Campbell appeared at the entrance of 
the cave and said, “If ye’d see the garment 
in its beauty, and if ye’d have a guid fit, ye 
maun com e now.” She spoke of a dress she 
was making for Lisita, out of a piece of High¬ 
land plaid that was brought in the old cedar 
chest, from across the sea. Lithely she sprang 
up and like the roe on the mountain, she sur¬ 
mounted every obstacle that lay between her 
and the cave, so anxious was she to try on 
that beautiful new dress.” As fleet as a deer, 
and as beautiful as a dove,” muttered the old 
man to himself—“ so childlike and yet so 
womanly. How she reminds me of one I 
knew long ago.” 

Robert Thompson, who had been watching 
them closely, was really getting interested, 
and in fact was losing all the heart he had. 
He walked over to where the old man was 
sitting on the log and showed him the deed 
for the land, and told him his plans. The old 
gentleman was pleased to see the deed for the 
land was made to him, so he heartily agreed 
to his plans, and why should he not? For was 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 105 

not life better here, in the stillness of the for¬ 
est, where nature abounds in its fullness? 
But what of the Old Manse across the sea? 
He would like to see it once more, but a voice 
within whispered, far, far away o’er the ocean 
wild—no more trips o’er the moors nor to the 
Highlands, but all is well. 

Robert Thompson had walked away a lit¬ 
tle distance to where the greyhound was bark¬ 
ing. He was amused to see Jamie and the 
dog, who had a bear at bay. The bear had 
been devouring the carcass of a wild hog 
which it had killed and was neither in shape 
for a race or a battle. 

“ My, hit’s a big un. Le’s swing him up to 
the tree. Me an’ the houn’ can lick him.” said 
Jamie. 

“ No, take care ” said Thompson, “ for I 
want its hide to make a rug.” 

He picked up an axe with which the boy 
had been chopping, and hit the bear a heavy 
blow on the head, When they had made an 
end of it they went to dinner. Plans were laid 
at dinner for the new cabin that was to go up 
at once. Already there had been many trees 
felled and hewed for he saw he must buy and 
build, or his secret would soon be out. After 


106 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

dinner, with the assistance of the ponies, 
many logs were brought to the level, out 
from the cave. 

“ This is all we will ‘snake in’ this after¬ 
noon,” and the boy led the ponies away and 
hitched them to the sled and went to haul in 
the bear, while Robert Thompson and the old 
man marked out a foundation and rolled the 
first logs in place. They were at work by day¬ 
light next morning. More logs were hauled 
and rolled down, and the cabin was going 
right up. They made it large enough for 
two rooms, which they planned would serve 
for dining room and kitchen when they should 
build a larger house. The boy was busy find¬ 
ing and hauling stones, suitable to fit in the 
chimney. Some flat stones were found down 
along the run, for hearth stones, and in a 
week’s time the cabin was completed. They 
felled a large oak, sawed it into the proper 
lengths and out of it made clapboards to cover 
the roof. The smaller limbs were sawed and 
chopped into the right length to fit the wide 
fire-place, while the branches were piled up 
in heaps, preparatory to a clearing they were 
going to make. A puncheon floor was laid 
in the cabin, and a fire was built to bum a 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 107 

day or two in order to take away the damp¬ 
ness, and some bear-skin rugs were laid over 
the floor. 

That evening Robert Thompson went up to 
cover the fire for the night and as he left the 
cabin he heard a strange noise. He listened 
again and again, but could not tell where it 
came from. First it sounded low and soft like 
the sighing of the wind, then like some one in 
distress, and then settled to a low moan that 
grew fainter and fainter until it died away 
in the blackness of the night. 






* 



















' j 










4 






CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE HALLOWE’EN PARTY. 

The home of Doctor Brooks, on this Hol- 
lowe’en night was a scene of light and beauty. 
Mellow lights strung from gate posts, trees, 
shrubbery, and over the archway that led 
from the front gate to the little cottage, and 
many poles had been erected in the backyard 
for the pumpkin faces to hang upon. These 
were carved into designs representing famil¬ 
iar faces. One was carved so as to represent 
the stars, another a half moon, while a very 
large pumpkin, from which a round piece had 
been cut out, represented the sun. These, 
lighted up with candles inside, made various 
pictures, and altogether, with the goblins 
dancing about, made a very wierd scene. Con¬ 
stance Brooks, the petted child of fond par¬ 
ents, was the only child left in the home, since 
the rest were all married and gone. She was 
a beautiful and talented girl, but selfish inso¬ 
much that she thought every one with whom 

109 


110 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

she associated, must do her bidding, and more 
than once that day some of the slaves had 
been lashed for not doing things just to her 
taste. She walked outside to see if every¬ 
thing was in perfect order, but felt a little 
restless as she came back into the sitting 
room and glanced at the clock on the mantle. 
It was after seven o’clock and the party would 
begin at eight. 

“ 0, why don’t they come,” said she. “ The 
guests will soon begin to arrive.” 

About three miles away, in a home of pov¬ 
erty, Doctor Brooks and Coewell were stand¬ 
ing, with a mother, by the bedside of her son, 
who had “lung” fever, as pneumonia was 
commonly called then. Doctor Brooks was a 
very conscientious man, for he realized a life 
was in the balance, whether rich or poor. 

“You may go,” he said to Victor. “I will 
stay until there is a change. After the party 
you may come back after me. 

Victor now remembered his promise to be 
ready for the party at eight. “ If I am needed 
here, they can get along without me at the 
Hallowe’en party,” said Victor, but he thought 
he would like to be true to his promise. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 111 

“ No, no, you must go,” said Doctor Brooks, 
“ and return after the party is over.” 

Thus released, Victor Coewell was soon 
driving the two thoroughbreds at a rapid 
pace over the road to the home of Doctor 
Brooks. He alighted in front of the gate at 
half past seven, but stopped a minute to look 
at the great display of lights and faces. One 
of the servants led the horses away, while 
another took Victor around to the back door, 
according to Constance’s instructions, where 
he ate a lunch, then slipped up the back stairs 
to his room, for the cottage was a story and 
a half high, with three rooms on the upper 
floor. His clothes were all laid out. He was 
to represent Mark Anthony, and Constance 
would represent Cleopatra. A prize of a hun¬ 
dred dollars had been offered by Doctor 
Brooks for the best gowned couple there. 
Just as the clock on the mantle struck eight, 
Victor appeared under the lights, with Con¬ 
stance on his arm. 

“Who is the tall, graceful man under the 
pink shade, with that perfectly gowned and 
jeweled lady by his side?” whispered one. 

“We have just been wondering who it 
could be,” said another. 


112 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


Another said she thought it was the May¬ 
or’s son, with his fiancee, who was to be pres¬ 
ent that night. Some were sitting on rustic 
chairs, others were walking around from 
place to place, under the mellow lights that 
cast a glow over the spacious lawn. Finally 
the games begin. One group came forth near 
the center of the crowd and danced the dance 
of the goblins. After they had finished an¬ 
other group appeared in the center, bearing 
candles upon their heads, and danced the 
dance of the fire-flies. Then came a little old 
elf, with some elf maids of dazzling beauty, 
who joined hands, bowed and danced merrily 
as they sang of their home on the hill or the 
wild. (Constance had picked a dozen very 
small children from the neighborhood land 
taught them to act as elves). Great applause 
went up from the crowd at this and another 
lively tune was struck up on the violin and 
banjo and others in their turn came forward 
to the center. Finally the last group came 
forward but they did little but step to the 
music. Great cheers went up as the tall, 
handsome figure and the jeweled lady by his 
side, bowed to each group, and then to each 
other. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 113 

Mrs. Brooks was with the servants, who 
were preparing a midnight lunch to be placed 
on the table erected for that purpose at the 
other side of the house. Plates were laid for 
twelve couples and the couple who won the 
prize was to be seated at the head of the table, 
with such groups as they chose to eat with 
them, while the other groups had to wait 
table. It was nearing midnight when the 
music and merrymaking came to a sudden 
stop, as the judges who were to award the 
prizes, came to the center. The spokesman 
said: 

“We have unanimously decided that the 
prize of one hundred dollars, which is offered 
for the most perfect costumes of the persons 
whom they are representing, will go to the 
couple under the pink shade, who are posing 
as Mark Anthony and Cleopatria. You will 
please unmask and come forward.” 

After they unmasked and received the 
prize, everyone else removed their masks and 
were led to the table. Victor and Constance 
who were at the head of the table, waiting 
till all were ready to be seated, were surprised 
to see a large, dark figure stand between 


114 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

them, and just as Constance sat down, he at 
once took the chair by her side. 

“ I’ll show you, Mark Anthony, that I too, 
have a right by the lady’s side. I am Julius 
Caesar.” 

“ Oh, for Brutus’ dagger,” thought Coewell, 
as he caught him by the back of the neck and 
landed him about three yards away, then seat¬ 
ed himself at the head of the table, while his 
opponent in anger challenged him for a 
wrestling match, to which he consented after 
supper was over. And true to their compact 
when the meal was over the two drew near 
the center of the ring, Jack Houck coming 
from one side, wearing the suit in which he 
represented Julius Caesar, while Victor Coe¬ 
well dressed as Mark Anthony, came from the 
other. At the word “ Go,” from their leader, 
they made for each other. They wrestled for 
some time and it looked as though they were 
evenly matched when around they went, and 
one or the other must surely be overthrown; 
but just now one of Anthony’s feet was swung 
in the air but before he went down he regain¬ 
ed a good foot-hold and threw himself around 
Julius Caesar with almost superman strength 
and Jack Houck, the mighty wrestler, lay flat 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 115 

on his back, with Victor Coewell on top. Loud 
applause rang out as Houck’s friends led him 
off and he was not seen again that night. 

Victor walked straight to his room and 
undressed, while the colored man brought the 
team out, and he was soon on his way back to 
assist Doctor Brooks. When he reached the 
bedside again their patient was resting bet¬ 
ter and the old doctor looked as if a great bur¬ 
den had been lifted from his heart, as he said 
“ The crisis is past, and with the right care 
he stands a good chance for recovery.” 

On the way home Victor told the doctor 
of the party and the wrestling match. 

“ A bad business. They are a jealous race 
and he may seek to do you harm. You see he 
has long sought my daughter’s hand and I—” 
He did not finish the sentence for some 
masked men caught the bridle reins, and 
ordered them to halt. 



















CHAPTER XIX. 


A STRANGER VISITS NANCY LAKE. 

Late in the evening of a day in early No¬ 
vember, a stranger rode up to Nancy Lake’s 
gate. He alighted just as she and William 
Kerr, who now lived with her, were coming 
in from the field where they had been husking 
corn. They had raised a large field of corn 
but were late getting it all husked out and 
were just now finishing up, as they had done 
all the work themselves. The stranger spoke 
politely and asked for a night’s lodging, to 
which Nancy replied, “ You may stay but we 
will be late with supper for I have been work¬ 
ing in the field. Walk into the house—the 
boy will take care of your horse.” 

The stranger removed his leggings and 
went inside, while the boy led the horse away 
to the watering-trough, and then to the log 
stable, where he hitched it in the stall, by old 
Prince. He filled the manger with hay, then 
went out to the woodyard and took in some 

117 


118 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

dry wood, and a bright fire was soon burning 
on the hearth, while a lighted candle shone 
from the little stand by the window. 

“ Hit’s a damp and chilly evenin’, but the 
rain yesterday made it good for huskin’ corn. 
How fur did you come, stranger-” 

“ Oh, about fifty miles today, I guess.” 

“Golly, you must ’a seen some country, sir. 
I never bin more’n three or four miles aroun’, 
but I’m jest as happy as I kin be.” 

“ I suppose you like to work, my boy? asked 
the stranger. 

“Well, yes, I reckon so. You see I alius had 
to, an’ at home we never got done workin’ 
but here at Aunt’s I get some days off, and 
kin hunt, and go to meetin’ Sundays now, fur 
I’ve got a new suit of clothes Aunt made me.” 

“Did you ever go to school?,” asked the 
stranger. 

“ No, not yit, but I’m goin’ this year. School 
will start next week and last four months. 
Aunt says I kin go every day, if I git up early, 
and work of evenings.” 

“ Well, my boy, if you apply yourself prop¬ 
erly, you can yet make a good scholar.” 

“ Yes, I specks so, cause Pa wuz, but he jes’ 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 119 

likes to set aroun’ and read now, better’n to 
work.” 

“Did you ever hear of Abraham Lincoln, 
the rail- splitter and debater? He acquired 
most of his education in the forest, with 
nothing but a shovel on which to cipher, with 
charcoal for a pencil, but you see the world 
must have a work for him to do, and he has 
prepared himself for that work, whatever it 
may be. There is talk of his coming out for 
President next year,” said the stranger. 

The boy who had gained some new 
thoughts, went to the kitchen, picked up a 
bucket and cup, and went out whistling, to 
where the cow was waiting to be milked. He 
dragged some fodder around to the cow, then 
counted out ten ears of corn for each horse. 
When he had finished milking he carried in 
another load of wood and laid it in the wood- 
box, as his Aunt Nancy announced supper. 
After supper the boy brought out apples and 
nuts and he and the stranger sat by the big 
fire while Nancy Lake busied herself in the 
kitchen. After she had finished her work, 
she too, sat with them by the fire. 

“ How long have you lived here, Miss 
Lake?” asked the stranger. 


120 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“ All my life, sir. The rest all married and 
left, so I stayed and took care of my Mother 
and Father, as long as they lived, and they 
gave me a deed for this land.” 

“You are lucky, madam, to have such a 
good boy with you.” 

“Yes, it seems so, but I have seen lots of 
trouble in the last year.” 

“ How so, madam?” 

This question seemed to bring the past viv¬ 
idly back and Nancy Lake related to his listen¬ 
ing ear, every detail connected with Lisita’s 
disappearance. How she had been left with 
her when a baby, and she did not know why 
she was concealed where none could find her. 

“ Have you no clue, or anything by which 
you could identify her?,” asked the stranger. 
“ Maybe I can assist you as I travel around a 
good deal.” 

Twice Nancy Lake started toward the old 
chest where the little mysterious box lay hid¬ 
den away in the bottom, covered with other 
things, but some unseen hand seemed to stop 
her each time. She turned and said, “I believe 
Providence will have a hand in restoring my 
charge. What more can I do than to trust 
God while I watch and wait?” 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 121 

The stranger dropped his head lower, as 
one in an attitude of listening, as the boy 
“broke in”: “I wonder if she’s as purty as 
she used to be when we played Bline Man at 
Uncle Ike’s? ‘Course I want her to come back 
but I don’t want to lose my home, but ’course 
I’d like fur her to come back.” 

It was getting late when they all retired 
for the night. The stranger slept in the sit¬ 
ting-room, and the boy and his aunt slept in 
the two bed-rooms in the back of the house. 
“ Wip,” as he was called, covered up the fire 
and left the little candle burning on the man¬ 
tel. The stranger blew it out before he re¬ 
tired, and the house was left in darkness. 
Tired and weary, Nancy Lake slept soundly 
that night, as did the boy; so, soundly that 
they did not see a searchlight turned toward 
the old chest, and a man crawling on hands 
and knees, as still as a mouse, moving in that 
direction. At last he reached it and raised 
the heavy old lid carefully, so as not to make 
any noise. He laid aside each piece of linen 
and the various old “keepsakes” that had lain 
for years beneath it’s heavy, oaken lid. “ This 
must be it,” thought he, as he picked up some¬ 
thing that resembled a small box, but when he 


122 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


unclasped it he saw only a picture of a woman 
and a tall man. As he turned his searchlight 
upon it, he could see that the man looked nat¬ 
ural—he could not be mistaken in that pic¬ 
ture, but who was the woman? He hastily 
put it in his pocket, and went on with the 
search for he had not found all for which he 
was looking. He peered around quietly to see 
that everything was quiet in the little cabin, 
then resumed the search. He had almost 
given it up when he spied something in the 
far corner, tied up in a red handkerchief. He 
picked it up and untied it. Inside was a little 
black box, about four inches square and three 
inches high. It was made of wood, and col¬ 
ored with coloring made from the bark of 
trees. He almost trembled now for it seemed 
that someone was pulling it away from him. 
But this was only his guilty conscience for he 
tied it up again and put it in his heavy coat 
pocket, and went back to bed. He had not 
been a minute too soon, for just then Nancy 
Lake stirred, raised up and looked all around, 
as though she had heard someone. She called 
to the boy and told him to go to the door, for 
she had seen a light. The boy walked out in 
the sitting-room, lit the candle, unbolted the 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 123 

door and looked around, but did not see or 
hear anyone. The stranger seemed to be 
asleep, and the old clock on the mantel struck 
two. His aunt decided it must have been a 
dream, so the boy went back to bed. He arose 
at five o’clock, and raking the coals of fire 
together, added some kindling wood, and a 
good supply of the wood he had carried in the 
night before. He went to the kitchen stove, 
built a fire, put on the tea-kettle and walked 
in the sitting-room where a blazing fire re¬ 
warded him for his work. His aunt got up 
and went in the kitchen to get breakfast. 
The first faint streaks of day were appearing 
as the boy stepped out, with milk-bucket on 
his arm. He fed the horse, milked the cow 
and returned to the little kitchen where 
breakfast was ready. After breakfast was 
over, the stranger went on his way, and 
Nancy Lake and the boy went to the field 
to finish husking corn. The stranger, when a 
little way from the house, felt his pocket to 
see if all was safe. The link of the chain is 
broken. Who can bind it together? 




















CHAPTER XX. 


THE LOG-ROLLING IN CAVE HOLLOW. 

Robert Thompson, William Henry Alexan¬ 
der, Jean and Joan Campbell and Lisita, were 
now being much talked of in the neighborhood, 
and were known as the Browns. Robert 
Thompson had changed his mind somewhat, 
in regard to his life plans, since he met Lisita. 
He could not have believed a year ago that 
he would ever be so contented and happy as 
he now finds himself in a strange land, sur¬ 
rounded with vast timberland, with here and 
there, some times a mile or more apart, a 
house with some cleared land around it. If he 
could just gain the prize for which he sought 
“ the desert could be made to blossom as the 
rose.” However, he would try, and if not by 
fair means, it must be by some other. He 
had only hoped to win a fortune, by conceal¬ 
ing the old man until his death, and then all 
would descend to his son, and if him or his 
heirs could not be found he would be safe for 

125 


126 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

everything had been planned and made se¬ 
cure. Deeds and wills had been made, and if 
another should try to prove anything to the 
contrary, he would have them in his power. 
Lisita was very distant toward him and this 
seemed to make him more anxious to seek her 
company. 

It was agreed that he would teach the Mill- 
grove school that winter. The term was to 
begin in November and last four months. The 
people in that neighborhood who had children 
they wished to send to school, paid the teach¬ 
er so much tuition for each pupil during the 
term, as it was supported by local subscrip¬ 
tion. Under the public school law passed by 
Virginia in 1846, some counties established 
and supported free schools, but very few of 
them did so until after the Civil War. 

Reading, arithmetic and writing were 
about all the branches taught then and Robert 
Thompson knew that this would be easy for 
him and would give him a good standing in 
the neighborhood, so they were trying to get 
moved, and a larger building completed before 
school began. 

On the following day, with the coming of 
the dawn, each member of the cave-house was 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 127 

very busy, and by evening most everything 
had been moved to the new log cabin on the 
bluff. Joan Campbell and Lisita were to oc¬ 
cupy the back room, and the old gentleman 
the sitting room, while Robert Thompson and 
Jamie slept in the cave. The old cedar chest 
and many other things had been left in the 
cave until they would have more room. The 
cave would now serve as a cellar, so it was 
decided that they must build a larger house. 
The log-rolling was to be the following Mon¬ 
day and each day the ponies were hitched to 
the spring-wagon, and the boy hauled in 
apples, potatoes and pumpkins which had 
been bought from the people in the neighbor¬ 
hood. The cooking had been done in the cave, 
with skillet, and lid or oven, but at daylight 
on Friday morning, Robert Thompson and 
Jamie were driving along at a good pace to¬ 
ward the nearest village, about six miles 
away. About dusk of the same evening they 
arrived in front of the log cabin with a new 
cook stove and a barrel of flour. The stove 
was set up and a fire built in it, a little candle 
burning brightly on the kitchen shelf. The 
women were proud to be getting everything 
fixed up so conveniently. There was plenty 


128 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

of wild game in the woods at that time, and 
the following morning they were in the woods 
early and returned with two wild turkeys 
and two pheasants. That afternoon the boy 
went after a cow they had bought, and Robert 
Thompson, with the help of the old man, 
butchered a small beef. They also dressed 
their game and hung it out over night. 

Although the next day was Sunday, they 
cooked some of the game, for the Monday 
they were to have the log-rolling, and people 
would be there from all the country around. 
The folks from across the sea had only 
brought with them such things as they could 
pack in the old cedar chest, a trunk or two, 
and a box. Many necessary things had been 
added to their supply since their arrival in 
this country, either made by them or pur¬ 
chased from someone else. They travelled 
by rail from New York to Clarksburg, and 
bought a covered wagon, drawn by two 
ponies, from a man who was driving through 
the country. After buying some supplies 
they drove through the country, sleeping in 
the wagon, stopping long enough each day to 
build a fire and do their own cooking, while 
the ponies were fed and rested. At last they 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 129 

came in sight of a grist mill on the bank of a 
beautiful stream of water, with wooded land 
for miles to the right. 

“ Now,” said Robert Thompson to Joan, 
“ I will leave all in your care and return when 
I find a suitable place.” 

He took a gun with him, and the large deer¬ 
hound followed along. He walked for miles 
and miles through the forest and had almost 
decided they must drive on farther before 
they could find a place like he hoped to find. 
The dog just then seemed to be in hot pursuit 
of something ,and they were coming nearer. 
He ran down farther in the hollow, where 
they must soon cross, and was just in time 
to shoot a deer as it crossed over to the higher 
ground. The deer lay close to the top of the 
cave. He went down farther into the hollow 
where a ledge of rocks stood out against the 
hillside. Underneath the ledge was a large 
sheltered place, an underground passage with 
walls of solid rock, and other narrow pas¬ 
sages leading away in different directions. 
This he thought must be an Indian cave as it 
must have been inhabited at some time for 
there were cross marks and pictures of In¬ 
dian darts, hatchets and tomahawks drawn 


130 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

on the rock wall, with slate-rock pencils and 
red gravel stones. This is the place of all 
places, thought he; as he looked around he 
saw that it could be made very comfortable 
with a little work. So he went outside to 
where the deerhound was keeping watch over 
the game, took hold of the deer and dragged 
it into the cave. He motioned to the dog to 
lie down, which he did. 

Then Robert Thompson hastened back to 
tell of his wonderful good luck, and evening 
found them at the cave with the ponies, but 
the wagon was brought part of the way and 
concealed in the woods till they could chop 
away trees and underbrush, so that it was 
brought next day. It seemed that his plans 
flourished, and in this God-fearing neighbor¬ 
hood of long ago, the tares were allowed to 
grow with the wheat, for a time. But what 
of the harvest? 

At four o’clock on Monday, everyone in 
the little log cabin above the cave, was up and 
ready for work on the day that would always 
be remembered by Lisita. After breakfast 
was over Jamie took a pail and went to milk. 
Robert Thompson was piling some small logs 
together outside, where he was going to 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 131 

build a fire and hang some meat to roast. 
William Alexander was replenishing the fire¬ 
place and stove with wood, Lisita was clean¬ 
ing up the house and assisting Joan Camp¬ 
bell, who seemed to be trying to get every¬ 
thing on to cook at once. The turkeys had 
been cooked the day before and put in the 
pans, ready to be stuffed with dressing, and 
baked. Pumpkin was being cooked for pies, 
great pans of apples were ready to be roasted 
and potatoes were waiting to be peeled. The 
oven was on the hearth with coals of fire un¬ 
derneath it and on the lid, with bread baking 
inside. 

“ I believe we’ll have a fair day,” said the 
old gentleman as he looked through the open 
door to the east where a little light could be 
seen. 

“ It seems guid to be up so soon in the morn- 
in’,” said Joan Campbell, whose thoughts 
were wandering far across the sea, for she 
thought of another morning long ago when 
Laddie “ was there at the first peep o’ day,” 
and then of the night when he never returned. 
Lisita took down the old violin from a peg in 
the wall and as the music was borne along 
on the glad morning air, streams of oxen and 


132 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

men could be seen winding down the hollow. 
Old men, young and middle aged men were 
coming, and some women and girls too, so that 
they might assist with the cooking, and get 
a look at the new school master, who as they 
thought would more than likely make a good 
match for some one of them. One woman 
brought some apple pies, another some bread, 
and Roanne Coewell, who came on horseback, 
brought a basket with some fresh rolls of 
butter, and a jar of honey. So happy was 
Lisita that she seemed for a time to forget 
that she had ever had another home and that 
she had been stolen away. 

When she found the old man alone, she ran 
in and told him she dreamed last night that 
so many men were at work and at last there 
wan one who towered above the rest, and all 
obeyed his voice though it was low and gentle. 
A long table was being erected in the yard, 
while you could hear the woodman’s axe at 
work, and the great trees of the forest that 
had grown so long undisturbed, in their stal¬ 
wart beauty, were falling before it. The 
Druids of the woodland who had long done 
sentinel duty in that vast stillness, were bow¬ 
ing to the will of man. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 133 

The old fisherman and his blue-eyed daugh¬ 
ter had just arrived bringing some fish he had 
secured by means of a fish net. He, together 
with Cornelius Coewell and William Alexan¬ 
der, were marking off the site for the new 
house. Sambo was already hauling in logs 
with the oxen, and some were ready with 
hand-spikes to roll them in place for the 
house. Lisita and the fisherman’s daughter 
were spreading cloths and placing dishes on 
the long table in the yard. 

“What pretty dishes you have,” said Mollie, 
when the old willow-ware was placed on the 
table. “ Where did you get them?” 

“ I don’t know,” said Lisita. “ Aunt can tell 
you.” 

They looked up just as the first log was 
laid in place and saw Robert Thompson com¬ 
ing to where some meat was roasting by a 
fire. He spoke to Mollie and went on. 

“You have a good-looking brother,” said 
Mollie. 

“ He is not—” Lisita did not finish the sen¬ 
tence for he was at her side. 

“It must be Indian Summer,” said one of 
the men, as he looked at the blue haze that 
surrounded the hills. 


134 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“A good day, a good turnout and good- 
lookin’ gals,” said another as he looked to 
where they were placing turkey, beef, fish, 
pheasants, pies, pudding and cakes on the 
table. The horn was now blowing for dinner, 
and the country folk were coming from vari¬ 
ous directions toward the house. After they 
were seated around the table on rude benches, 
one fellow called out—“ Tell that brown eyed 
gal to give us a tune on the fiddle.” At this 
someone handed Lisita the old Stradivarius 
and William Alexander hauled an old bass 
viol out of the corner, and as the music rolled 
out in delightful strains, echoing and re-echo¬ 
ing over hollow and hill, as the feasting went 
on, and up the narrow path came a stalwart 
man, riding a sorrel mare. 

“Victor!” said Roanne Coewell, as he 
alighted and kissed his mother, then shook 
hands with the folks around, but his eyes 
seemed to be fixed on the slender girl who was 
wielding the bow. She smiled, as he raised his 
hat and came nearer, then laughingly reached 
the bow toward him. He took the bow out of 
her hands and shook hands with her. Her 
hand with the violin dropped to her side, and 
her soul was aglow with a strange enchant- 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 135 

ment as she saw the one who towered above 
the rest, and whose voice was low and gentle. 
Her heart was pierced as if by a dart, and 
mutual lovelight shone from two pair of eyes. 









V. 








I 











w 









CHAPTER XXI. 


THE HOUSE-RAISING FINISHED. 

Robert Thompson, who stood a little way 
off, looked on with a jealous eye, for he had 
never seen Lisita look so beautiful before. 
Her eyes shone like stars, or as a mirror of 
the soul that is aflame with pure love. She 
withdrew her hand, and placed the violin in 
the corner with the bass viol, then went to 
assist the other girls in carrying away the 
plates, and placing clean ones around for 
those who had not eaten. After dinner, Will¬ 
iam Alexander and Victor Coewell sat under 
a large tree and talked, while the women and 
girls were clearing the table. The two men 
now got up and walked toward where the new 
building was going up. Sambo was coming 
up with his oxen. 

“ How do you think dese oxen am a lookin’, 
Marse Vick?” 

“Straight ahead, sir!,” said Victor, as he 
took the whip from Sambo’s hand and with 

137 


138 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

a quick jerk made a sound which the oxen 
understood, as they quickened their pace to¬ 
ward another log, waiting to be hauled in. 

“ You see, Mr. Coewell, we are putting the 
chimney in the center of the building, so we 
can have a fire in both rooms down stairs as 
well as up stairs,” said William Alexander. 

“ I see. I like that, but it will take lots of 
wood. Sambo can bring the oxen over and 
help you haul in wood to-morrow,” said 
Victor.” “ After school begins your son will 
not have much time.” 

“My son!” said William Alexander, and 
stopped short as if somethiing hurt him. 
“ Yes, busy indeed, sir.” 

The house was going right up. Two men 
were lifting and tugging at one end of a heavy 
log, but failed to get it to the right place. A 
man who arrived late in the day, hauling a 
keg of cider on a sled drawn by a yoke of 
oxen, called out that he would give the keg 
of cider to any man who would lift one end 
of the log in place. First one tried it then 
another. Finally they called on the school 
teacher. 

“ He seems to be a very wiry little man,” 
said Cornelius Coewell, as he lifted, twisted 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 139 

and tugged at the log that was too heavy for 
him. 

“ I give it up,” said he, as a dozen or more 
voices rang out in a chorus, “Come on, Victor, 
you can lift her!” 

Victor was a little slow to start, but felt 
that he must either succeed or fail. The girls 
and women were watching now, and he knew 
that every eye was turned toward him, as he 
took hold of the log and lifted it in place. 
“ Hurrah, for Coewell,” rang out through the 
forest, as he took the keg of cider to the wom¬ 
en and told the men they were to drink just 
as much as the women handed out. One dark 
face wore a scowl, as he lifted the log in place, 
and a jealous eye followed him, as he led 
Lisita to where his horses were saddled. He 
untied the horses and placed her in one saddle 
and hastily sprang into the other, then they 
were off down the narrow path leading to 
the old mill. Robert Thompson was playing 
a part, but for a moment was at sea to know 
just what to do. However, this must not go 
on as all his plans would be overthrown. So 
quick as a thought almost, he told Jamie to 
saddle the ponies and bring them around. 
Seeing it would not look well to follow alone, 


140 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

he asked Mollie to go with him, and they too, 
soon disappeared down the narrow path. 

“Wall, young folks air funny folks,” said the 
old fisherman as they rode out of sight. “I 
wuz young once, and a merry day we had 
when me Bonnie and me gathered heathbloom 
and primroses and strayed o’er the moor. But 
the day is about over and nicht is drawing 
nigh.” 

William Alexander raised his head at this 
speech and sat like one in a dream, for quick 
as a thought he seemed to be in the old Manor 
house, with vast estates around him; once 
more he was walking over the moor or hunt¬ 
ing in the Highlands. Once again he heard 
the shrill notes of the bagpipe. But his 
reverie was broken when Cornelius Coewell 
placed a hand on his shoulder and asked him 
to come and see if the chimney was wide 
enough. The logs were about all in place, 
and they would soon be ready for the rafters. 
It was four o’clock and when the ridge-pole 
was put in place, they christened it Cave-pole, 
then the women folk started to prepare 
supper. 

Victor and Lisita soon came to the old mill 
and stopped their horses to watch the water 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 141 

as it fell over the stones and sparkled in the 
sunlight like so many jewels, while Victor told 
her of many strange things that he had heard 
about a mysterious, dark-robed maiden who 
walked there all alone. 

“ If you will consent to come with us some 
moonlight night (for then is when it walks), 
we will see if it is true.” 

“ I think I will come, but will tell you sure 
before long.” 

At this they rode on to Millgrove and across 
the hill to where they could look down on the 
home of the Coewells, lying at the foot of 
some gently sloping hills, with a large, clear 
stream of water flowing slowly on. “ How 
beautiful!” exclaimed Lisita. “ That is our 
home,” said Victor. “ I have been away this 
Fall, out in Maryland with an old friend of 
my Father’s, who is a doctor and that is my 
chosen profession so I have been reading 
medical books and working under him. I just 
returned home today. I got a letter from 
Mother last week, telling me of the land deal 
and of the log-rolling.” 

“ Oh, how nice,” said Lisita, “ but I am 
afraid of doctors.” 


142 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“Why so, little girl? They are your best 
friends, especially when you are sick.” 

She modestly returned his ardent gaze, and 
they were off again, over the hill and through 
the woodland, on their way to Cave Hollow, 
which now seemed so dear to Lisita. They 
arrived just as the folks were sitting down 
to supper. Sambo led the horses away, and 
when they went in the house, Victor took up 
the old violin and handed it to Lisita, while 
the old gentleman sat close by with the bass 
viol and the music again rang out sweet and 
clear until the whole forest seemed to catch 
the spirit of merrymaking. 

Robert Thompson, who was riding with the 
fisherman’s daughter, had hoped to overtake 
the others and all ride along together, but 
just before they came in sight of the old mill, 
the other couple had left and were far on the 
road in the direction of Millgrove. Mollie 
had no thought of evil in her heart, but was 
merely riding for sport beside the well re¬ 
spected school-teacher, Mr. Brown. She 
thought he seemed a little impatient when 
they reached the old mill, as indeed he was, 
for he could not tell which way to go. Finally 
he said, “ Let us cross the ford and follow 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 143 

the road that leads up from the creek on the 
other side.” No sooner had he spoken than 
they were on their way. As they followed 
the road across from the mill, he thought of 
the Sunday when another rode by his side, 
and how he had crossed over and taken that 
road to mislead those who saw them, for their 
habitation in cave-hollow must not then be 
known. He asked Mollie many questions in 
regard to the Coewells as they rode along, 
and she told him how they had given her 
father the little cabin on the bluff overlooking 
the river, when he found his way there many 
years ago with her mother. Her mother and 
father had lived in Scotland and when her 
mother’s people objected to the marriage, 
they were secretly married and took a ship 
for the States. “ Father told me about it. 
He said she seemed satisfied here for awhile 
but he believed she longed for her native land 
again. She did not complain though her 
health was failing fast and she soon fell 
asleep. They buried her at Millgrove. I can 
just remember seeing her, and that is all.” 

Robert Thompson had almost forgotten the 
mission on which he started, and was all at¬ 
tention now. Perhaps after all his plans he 


144 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


would be found out. What part of Scotland 
did your father come from? From the Low¬ 
lands, or Southeastern part “ I think the town 
was Selkirk—Father can tell you all about it, 
if you ask him. 

“How old is this young Coewell?” he in- 
uired. 

“About nineteen years old. He is two 
years older than I am. We played together 
when we were little. I have known him all 
my life and feel indebted toward him for his 
many acts of kindness toward us. The Coe- 
wells are our best friends.” 

Robert Thompson now called to mind the 
tall, red, blond type of Lowlanders, in which 
was a strain of Teutonic blood. He thought 
the old fisherman resembled this type of 
Scotchman when he first met him, on the eve¬ 
ning of the land deal. He turned and looked 
into the face of the innocent girl who cher¬ 
ished no evil in her heart. The wrongdoer 
himself respects the pure, the good, the true. 

“Well, let us be off, or we will miss our 
supper,” said he. 

They soon come in sight of the old mill 
again and Mollie was almost sure she saw a 
large stone that lay below it, move as if some- 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 145 

thing beneath was pushing at it. “Look,” 
said Mollie, but he did not see anything and 
did not believe she had. They rode on and 
arrived just as Victor was eating supper. He 
too, sat down at the table and the two talked 
about their plans. After supper they went 
out and looked at the new house, which was 
all done to the roof. 

“ Why not have a party tonight? said Vic¬ 
tor. 

“ You will have to ask the old gentleman,” 
said Thompson, who did not want to have the 
party at all and felt sure the old man would 
veto it. but he was mistaken for when Victor 
Coewell approached him in his usual friendly 
and genteel maner, the old man smiled and 
said: “ I don’t hardly know.” He turned to 
Lisita, who looked like a pink rose, blushing 
in the sunlight and said; “ What do you say?” 

“ Oh, please let us. We will place candles 
on the wall and christen the new floor.” 

“ With our heels,” added Victor. 

The old man assented, for when Victor Coe¬ 
well approached him he thought of his own 
son who had left him many years ago. 

Lisita and Mollie hastened off to tell the 
others, for they were all getting ready to go 


146 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

home. It was agreed that the young folks 
could all stay awhile, and the older folks went 
home. Jamie built a fire in the new house, 
and the girls placed candles on the wall. 
Robert Thompson was talking with Joan 
Campbell, but was too late to stop it. The old 
melodian which had been hidden in the cave 
house so long, was brought out. Thompson 
played it, Lisita the old violin and William 
Alexander the bass viol. The glad strains that 
floated to the ears of the listeners, awakened 
emotions that did not die without a response. 
They chose partners and played games. Li¬ 
sita lay down the violin to go with Victor who 
had chosen her for his partner. They played 
until all were tired and the party broke up. 
Victor noticed that Lisita seemed to stay close 
to the old gentleman most of the time. Before 
he left he invited them over, and told Lisita 
he would never forget the day of the log-roll¬ 
ing in Cave Hollow. He saw Thompson was 
watching him closely as he lingered to say 
“ Good night ” to Lisita, and he was soon off 
on the path that led to the fisherman’s hut on 
the bluff, carrying a torch, Mollie and her 
father following the light. When they reached 
the top of the hill a little way from the house, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 147 

they thought they heard someone calling for 
help. They listened again and again but 
heard no sound and returned to their homes. 








CHAPTER XXII. 


GUESTS AT COEWELLS. 

On the night of the Hallowe-en party at the 
home of Melvin Brooks, the doctor and Vic¬ 
tor Coewell were returning from the bedside 
of their patient. It was an unusual happen¬ 
ing to hear a voice cry out In the night. 
“ Halt.” For many years Dr. Brooks had 
made his rounds, travelling the well-known 
roads at all hours of the night unmolested. 
And had it not been for the quick action of 
Coewell, who knows what might have hap¬ 
pened? But he instantly tightened the reins 
and gave the horses a lash with the whip so 
that they jerked loose and dashed past the 
masked men so suddenly that it threw one 
of them on the ground. They heard a pistol 
shot, but they were out of danger and would 
soon be home. They never knew whether it 
was someone trying to rob the doctor, or 
Jack Houck seeking revenge on Coewell for 

149 


150 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

happenings at the Hallowe’en party, but they 
rather thought it was the latter. 

The time was drawing near for Victor to 
return home. He was sorry to leave the old 
doctor, who had taken so much pains with 
him and offered him so much per month if 
he would stay throught the winter. But he 
got the letter from his mother telling of the 
land deal and the log-rolling—of the “inter¬ 
esting stranger” who was a visitor at the 
meeting at Millgrove schoolhouse and had 
come to be one of their neighbors, and her 
brother was going to teach their school this 
winter. What a chapter of news! He gave a 
low whistle, looked up and smiled, as he read 
this. Yes, he had not forgotten the dark¬ 
eyed maiden and thoughts of her often 
crossed his mind, like a vague shadow or 
dream. No, he had not forgotten the first im¬ 
pression she made on him and he hoped to 
know her better before long. It was agreed 
that he leave on the following Saturday night 
and return again in the Spring. 

Constance prepared for him a nice lunch 
and she and her father accompanied him to 
the depot. “ The best of luck to you, Coewell! 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 151 

Remember me on the coming winter nights 
when perhaps you will fare better.” 

“ The same to you, Dr. Brooks, and don’t 
work too hard. I will return and help you 
out next Spring, if nothing prevents. Good 
bye,” said Coewell, as he shook hands with 
them and started for the train that would 
soon pull out. 

“ Don’t forget your promise,” said Con¬ 
stance, as he tipped his hat, and in a moment 
was out of sight. 

He arrived at Parkersburg the next after¬ 
noon, and was soon on his way up the river 
on a boat. He reached home Monday morn¬ 
ing, soon after the folks had started to the 
log-rolling, so what could he do but follow? 

Dr. Brooks and his daughter returned 
home and the doctor told her his practice 
among the “ younger set ” seemed to be pick¬ 
ing up of late and he believed it would pay 
him to keep a younger man with him in the 
office. 

“Why not Coewell?” said Constance, who 
missed the stalwart form of the man who had 
been in their home for the past two months 
and who had been such a true friend to her 
father. 


152 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

On the morning after the log-rolling in 
Cave Hollow Victor mounted his favorite 
mare and started to town — a village of 
a few inhabitants, two stores, a postoffice 
and a school house. The morning was a 
little chilly but everything seemed beautiful 
to him. The sun in its glorious splendor, was 
rising o’er the hilltops and flooding all the 
land with warmth and beauty. When he came 
in sight of the river he thought the water 
never looked so clear and laughing before. 
The air never seemed so pure and bracing, the 
towering trees by the roadside never seemed 
so majestic. The hawk that sailed above the 
treetops seemed to move or float along so 
easily, and the music of the bells from the 
field was low and sweet. Had everything 
really changed? No, but the eyes and ears 
were seeing and hearing from the heart and 
soul of the inner man, that had been awak¬ 
ened by love and was walking on a higher 
plane, a plane where only pure manhood and 
womanhood can dwell. And what love is 
greater save our love to God and God’s love 
to His children? He arrived at the postoffice 
about ten o’clock and received a letter stating 
that Mr. and Mrs. Cecil Cox would land at 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 153 

the little town that afternoon, and would like 
for someone to meet them as they were entire 
strangers in that country. Victor was soon 
on his way home and arrived in time for din¬ 
ner. Sambo was called to hitch up the spring 
wagon and go to town to meet them. 

“ Well, ob all da’s, dis am de wo’stest fo’ 
dem Coxes to cum, for I dun bin haulin’ pun- 
kins and yams, and I specks to put dem Coxes 
to de greates’ speed dese hosses am capable 
ob.” 

“ You must treat them kindly, for they are 
very genteel people,” said Roanne Coewell. 

Sambo was soon on the road leading to the 
river, and on up to the field where he crossed. 
He reached the boat landing about three 
o’clock, just as the boat whistled for the land¬ 
ing. He saw a low, heavy-set man, and a tall 
dark-eyed woman get off. He walked up and 
said “Ef you is de aristocrats dat am goin’ to 
Marse Coe’ells, clime in dis omnibus, on de 
hinmost seat, in a hurry case I wants to git 
yo’ alls dar fo it frosts.” They looked some¬ 
what surprised, but took the back seat. “ Yo’ 
alls must a cum to stay,” said Sambo, after 
he lifted a heavy trunk and two traveling 
bags into the wagon. 


154 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“ Well, for a time I suppose,” said Mr. Cox. 

As they drove along toward Coewells, 
Cecil Cox took a map out of the travelling bag 
and was eyeing it closely. “ The very stream 
of water Will told us about fishing in one 
time,” said Mr. Cox, when they came in sight 
of the river, whose visit to this country was 
to find relatives and missing heirs. Great 
preparations were being made at Coewells 
for the coming guests. Along about five 
o’clock Sambo drove up with the dignified 
looking couple. Victor Coewell helped them 
to alight and led them into the large sitting 
room where a wood fire burned in the wide 
fire-place. Cornelius and Roanne Coewell 
came forward and shook hands with them. 

“Make yourselves at home,” said Cornel¬ 
ius; and Roanne told them she would have the 
servants to take their trunk and travelling 
bags up stairs. 

“ Thank you,” said the guests. “ I am sure 
we will enjoy such hospitality as this.” 

As the kitchen door was opened to an¬ 
nounce supper, the odors of the savory meal 
floated in. Mrs. Cox put down her smelling 
salts, and they all went out to supper. They 
were surprised when Mr. Cox asked for some 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 155 

raw eggs, beaten up in a glass. These were 
prepared and after he drank them he ate a 
hearty supper. After supper was over, they 
sat around the fire-place and had a long talk. 
Cecil Cox was the first speaker. 

“We have often talked of a trip to America, 
and now that some of our relatives are miss¬ 
ing, who cannot be found in Scotland, and 
their property may fall into the hands of 
stragers if we do not find them, we thought 
we must come now, as we had a mission to 
come on, as well as a pleasure trip.” 

“ You do not think they could be in this 
section, do you?” said Cornelius Coewell. 

“ My brother-in-law had vast estates in 
Scotland, but all at once he was missing. He 
visited this country several years ago, and his 
son stayed in this country. In the last few 
years his health seemed to be failing. We did 
not visit each other often. One day I visited 
the old house and found no one there but a 
servant or two. Everything seemed to be 
going down and all the information I could 
get was that he had gone North. That was 
last fall and I knew if that were true, he 
would have returned in a few months.” 


156 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“ Perhaps he has been foully dealt with,” 
said Cornelius Coewell. 

“Yes, or we thought he might have had 
a longing to see his son again, and have come 
to this country to search for him.” 

“ Would he not have let you know it, if he 
were planning a trip?” 

“ I think he would, sir, but wherever he is, 
his private secretary is with him, also an old 
servant, a Scotch-woman who has been with 
them for years. Word came to us some years 
ago that his son William had been killed in a 
wrestling match, or received injuries from 
which he died, leaving a daughter about a 
year old, but whether it is true, and who he 
married, I never knew.” 

“It is very strange,” said Cornelius Coe¬ 
well. What was his occupation?” 

“ He never worked much, but was a good 
scholar and musician; very trusty in his deal¬ 
ings. From my map I think it is forty or fifty 
miles from here to where his son was the last 
time they heard from him, sixteen or seven¬ 
teen years ago.” 

“ Well, we will be glad to assist you in any 
way we can,” said Cornelius Coewell. 

“ Another thing I am in this country for is 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 157 

to look at some holdings in and around New 
York City, which is known as the Peter Noe 
Estate, and by rights it will descend to the 
Coxes some future time.” 

But alas! it never did, for about twenty- 
five years later the heirs were called together 
to sign a paper for one who posed as their 
attorney and later it was turned over to a 
man in New Jersey, who died very suddenly, 
and they lost track of it. 

“Do you have a family?” asked Cornelius 
Coewell. 

“ Yes, but they are married and in homes 
of their own. I had a brother that settled in 
this country some years ago, too, but I lost 
all trace of him after he crossed the moun¬ 
tains.” 

Apples were brought in and passed around 
and while they were eating them, the conver¬ 
sation drifted to the old mill, the mill that 
had been built in Cornelius Coewell’s father’s 
time. Just then one of the slaves came run¬ 
ning in and said he saw a man running to¬ 
ward the big gate. They went out and looked 
around in every direction but saw no trace of 
anyone. They saddled horses, and Victor 
with his hounds following, rode to the low- 


158 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

gap. Once in awhile the dogs would act like 
they scented something, then all at once they 
would stop. Some of the dogs seemed deter¬ 
mined to go into Cave Hollow but Victor call¬ 
ed them back, and after they had reached 
home, he searched all the out-buildings but 
could not find any trace of their visitor. 

“ Probably someone out to ‘borrow’ from 
his neighbor,” said Victor to his father, who 
was still up when he returned. 

“ Sufficient unto the day is the evil there¬ 
of,” said Cornelius Coewell. 

Sambo, who heard Mr. Coewell’s reply to 
his son, said “ Dat am so, Marse Co’ell. We 
don’ need to worry case dar’ll be enuf ebil 
done each day.” 

After Victor went to bed, he felt uneasy 
about the folks in Cave Hollow lest some one 
might be going there to do them harm but he 
soon dismissed this idea for he was not sure 
the dogs were on the right trail. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THE TAVERN BY THE WAYSIDE. 

The following Monday the Coxes set out 
for a twenty-five mile journey, in search of 
relatives. 

“ The team is at your disposal,” said Cor¬ 
nelius Coewell. “ All I ask is for you to feed, 
water and care for them as your own. 

“ Thank you, sir, I will do that, and if noth¬ 
ing prevents we shall return after a time,” 
said Mr. Cox. 

Cornelius Coewell walked back to the house 
and into the kitchen where Roanne and Aunt 
Rachel were peeling apples. 

“ Some of our apples are beginning to rot,” 
said Mrs. Coewell, “ and we can save them by 
drying and making another kettle of apple 
butter.” 

“Why not have an apple-cutting?,” said 
Victor, who had just come down stairs. 

“ Well, we might,” said his mother. “ But 

159 


160 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

you see we are going to have the husking-bee 
this week. 

“ That’s right, mother. We would all for¬ 
get if it were not for you. But then you 
think one kissing party will be enough, do 
you?” 

“ Laws a massy! Dem playin’ parties am a 
big piece ob foolishness anyhow, and ’gin you 
clean after a bunch of dem frolickin’ white 
trash, why yo haint got much ahead,” said 
Rachel who was always allowed to speak her 
sentiments on acount of her age, and her long 
years of servitude in the families of the Coe- 
wells. 

“ Only pleasant memories,” returned Vic¬ 
tor. “Did you ever dance, Aunt Rachel?” 

“ Lawsy, yes. Dem wuz good ole times 
when my feet worked on springs, and few 
niggers cud ‘cut de pigeon wing’ as did dis 
lady, an’ when I hears de ole’ banjo agin it 
brings back dem good ole days when we wuz 
spry, and when ol’ Marse Coewell laughed at 
our hoe-downs.” 

“Well, I assure you we will have good 
music,” said Victor, as he started to go. 
“ What day will it be, Mother?” 

“Your Pa told the people at mill last Fri- 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 161 

day that we would have the husking-bee 
Wednesday, and I think most all the neigh¬ 
bors know it.” 

“Very well, it will be Wednesday,” said 
Victor, as he walked toward his favorite 
mare, which was saddled and waiting. He 
rode swiftly across the field, then up to the 
wooded land near the low gap where the old 
fisherman was gathering material of slender 
hickory withes to make chairs. He stopped 
to talk a few minutes, then rode on through 
the low-gap and took the narrow road lead¬ 
ing into Cave Hollow. He had not gone far 
on this narrow road when the animal he was 
riding stopped short, wheeled to one side of 
the road, spread its nostrils and snorted. 
Victor looked all around but failed to see any¬ 
thing, and finally urged the animal to go on: 
a little farther down he stopped suddenly for 
the sweet notes of a violin floated to his list¬ 
ening ear. Reverently he listened, and wish¬ 
ed that he could hear it always. What if he 
could never hear it again, nor see the slender 
form of the girl he loved? How dark this old 
world would be if it were so. He listened 
again and heard low, plaintive notes floating 
to him in the stillness of the forest. He rode 


162 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

on to where he could see Lisita seated on a 
log and the old gentleman near by. They did 
not see him but he could hear them talking. 
He could have heard every word they said 
but would not listen for they did not know he 
was there. He turned and rode away a little 
distance. Behind a clump of trees a man had 
stood in waiting for some time, so that he 
might catch every word that was said by the 
couple on the log, for if there were any new 
plans he must know them. His hiding place 
served a double purpose—he heard the con¬ 
versation of the two who thought he was in 
town ,and could also see the great interest 
and attention of the man on the sorrel mare 
when he heard Lisita playing the violin, and 
with jealous eyes he watched the stalwart, 
manly figure on horseback. 

After Victor had ridden a sufficient dis¬ 
tance away so that they could finish their 
conversation without any interruptions (for 
he felt sure they were talking of important 
matters by their actions and the old man’s 
gestures), he stopped and took a survey of 
the surroundings. On this quiet morning in 
late November the stillness of the forest filled 
him with a longing to explore its hidden 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 163 

depths, and the litle rivulet that laughed, 
danced and played as it flowed merrily along 
by the narrow pathway, whispered to him of 
love’s dream. He rode on farther and stop¬ 
ped to look in the direction of the old mill. He 
was not far from the road that wound ’round 
to the mill, when he saw a stranger walking 
toward the mill. The stranger was dressed 
shabbily and carried a little bundle tied up 
in a red handkerchief, swung across his 
shoulder on a stick. 

Victor turned back toward Cave Hollow. 
The old gentleman and Lisita were already 
going toward the house. He soon overtook 
them, alighted and shook hands with them, 
and asked if either of them would ride. With 
a little persuasion the old gentleman consent¬ 
ed to ride, while the happy couple walked 
slowly behind. 

“ Let me carry your fiddle,” said Victor. 

“ Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” said Lisita. 

“ And what makes you so forgetful,” said 
Victor, as he added, “ I might forget the vio¬ 
lin, but I shall never forget the one who plays 
it.” 

A smile was the only answer that Lisita 
gave, and they soon reached the house that 


164 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

looked like a mansion in those early days. 
The old lady never talked much, but welcom¬ 
ed them with a “ Guid mornin’ ” and a nod of 
the head. The boy, with a twinkle in his eye, 
said to Victor, as he led the horse away “ I 
spose you wouldn’t keer if a feller’d take a 
ride?” 

“ Not in the least, sir. Help yourself, but 
be careful for she scares sometimes.” 

The old man seemed to be busying himself 
with the wood and fires, so Lisita and Victor 
were left in the sitting room. As they talked, 
ate apples and chestnuts, they did not know 
of the great efforts another was making to 
hear their conversation, and they often look¬ 
ed back on it as one of their happiest days. 
Victor stayed until evening, invited them to 
the husking-bee, then started for home. 

The Coxes drove along at a slow pace and 
covered eight or ten miles by noon. They 
stopped at a farm house for dinner and to 
have their horses fed. After resting awhile, 
they continued on their journey. Along late 
in the evening they came to a tavern by the 
roadside, near the line where the counties 
of Roane and Calhoun join. 

“ We had better see if we can get lodging 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 165 

here, for there may not be another tavern 
within twenty miles of this one,” said Cecil 
Cox to his wife. 

“ Yes, you are right, Cecil, and I am tired 
and hungry, as well as our horses,” said Mrs. 
Cox, and she held the lines while he crossed 
the road and knocked on the door with latch 
string out. 

“ Come in, come in,” said a good-natured 
voice, and Cecil Cox pulled the latch string, 
and with a polite air raised his hat and peered 
into the pleasant little sittingroom. The lit¬ 
tle fat man on the stool hastily got up and 
came forward when he saw the guest was 
dressed better than the ordinary traveller. 

“ Can we get a night’s lodging here?” said 
Mr. Cox. 

“Yes, sir. Yes, indeed. Walk right in. 
Are you alone?” 

“ No, sir. My wife is with me, and we have 
a team.” 

“Will she need any help to alight?” asked 
the little, fat landlord. 

“Yes, you may bring a chair for her to step 
out on.” 

A home-made chair, with split hickory bot¬ 
tom, was placed at the side of the high, old 


166 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

spring wagon, and Mrs. Cox stepped out and 
was soon in the sittingroom of the tavern, by 
a blazing, log fire, while Mr. Cox, true to his 
word, followed off to the log stable across the 
road, to see that his team was well cared for. 
Twe other strangers stopped for lodging at 
the tavern that night. They were interested 
in the oil well that was then being drilled on 
the Rathbone tract, at a place that was later 
called Burning Springs, deriving its name 
from two bubbling springs that would burn if 
lit by a match. 

At supper Mr. Cox told them he had rela¬ 
tives in that section somewhere, but had lost 
trace of them for his brother left Scotland 
several years ago. Also that a brother-in- 
law who lived in the same country, had be¬ 
come missing. “ From the Captain of the 
ship, who is a friend of mine, I learned that 
someone filling his description, had come 
across to this country about a year ago. It’s 
my opinion that he is searching for his son 
who stayed in this country when they visited 
it years ago.” 

“What might his name be?” asked one of 
the strangers. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MTT.T, 167 

“ Alexander, sir. William Henry Alexan¬ 
der. His son’s name is William also.” 

Then the stranger who had traveled 
through the country a great deal on horse¬ 
back (for he was a cattle buyer) told of meet¬ 
ing some people driving through the country 
in a covered wagon drawn by two ponies. 

“In what section of the country did you 
meet them?” 

“Well, I would say about half way between 
Clarksburg and Parkersburg, but they turned 
to the left and were going toward the Hughes 
River. It was near a little stream of water 
called Bone Creek.” 

“ There is no doubt in my mind that these 
are the very ones for whom we are searching. 
Did you see the occupants of the wagon?” 

“Only a tall man, with dark complexion, 
and a boy on the front seat. If there were 
others I did not see them.” 

The strangers also told him of a family of 
Coxes that lived in Gilmer County. He had 
stayed all night with them once when he was 
buying cattle in that section. After supper 
the stranger and Mr. Cox looked over a map 
of Virginia, as the States were called then, 
and he located the vicinity of the Coxes with 


168 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

whom he had stopped, also the place he met 
the covered wagon, as near as he could, and 
Mr. Cox marked each place with a dot of red 
ink. This was news indeed, for he felt that 
he had at last gotten a clew. 

“ Perhaps we had better stay here a few 
days,” said Mr. Cox to his wife. “ May be 
we can learn more than we wish to know.” 

So it was agreed that they remain at the 
inn for a few days and the little fat landlord 
chuckled in his usual, goodnatured way for 
he knew their stay at the tavern would help 
to fill his sack, (which he kept under the floor 
where a board was loose) with shining gold, 
as well as fill his mind with the happenings of 
the day. A red dot was already placed on 
his map to indicate the home of the Coewells 
and he could tell to a certainty on account of 
the bend of the river. Another red dot was 
placed on the map for the tavern, that was 
also close by a small stream of water. From 
these red dots between which he knew the 
distance, he could reckon other distances, for 
his map did not give the scale of miles. So he 
reckoned the distance from the home of the 
Coewells to the other two dots as being about 
seventy or eighty miles apart. On the eve- 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 169 

ning before they left the tavern another 
stranger sought lodging. His dress was 
shabby, and he carried a bundle tied up in a 
red handkerchief, thrown over his shoulder 
on a stick. He resembled a tramp in dress, 
and when they were alone Cecil Cox stood 
amazed when the traveller removed his glass¬ 
es and a wig, for before him was a familiar 
face. 


















CHAPTER XXIY. 


SCHOOL BEGINS AT MILLGROVE. 

On the Monday before Thanksgiving, chil¬ 
dren for miles around were on their way to 
Millgrove. Parents accompanied some of the 
younger ones, others walked swiftly along fol¬ 
lowing after a large dog that ran along in 
front, for catamounts sometimes lurked near 
the pathway. The scream of the panther 
could be heard at nightfall and a bear might 
be seen occasionally. By eight o’clock the 
playground in front of the log schoolhouse 
was a scene of merriment, and the woods 
around were alive with the echoes of their 
joyous shouts. Some of the older boys had 
built a roaring wood fire in the stove, while 
others swept the floor and a bucket of fresh 
water had been brought from the spring by 
the roadside. 

When the teacher arrived accompanied by 
Jamie Campbell, Lisita and Mollie every¬ 
thing was in readiness for him. Robert 

171 


172 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

Thompson stopped short and took a look at 
his pupils. From the smallest to the largest 
(and there were at least thirty in all) every 
one was looking straight at him. There were 
not very many families in the neighborhood 
at that time but each family had from three 
to six children old enough to go to school. 
He looked out over the playground in front 
of the school house and from the size of the 
children he guessed their ages would run from 
seven to eighteen years. He looked at his 
watch, then walked into the schoolroom, laid 
a small dictionary on a chair that was up in 
front of the seats, picked up a stick that lay 
on the floor, went to the door, and with quick 
and heavy strokes against the logs, made a 
sound which called the happy children from 
their play, and “ books ” were then taken up. 
The teacher took a chair in front of the seats 
(which were so high that the feet of the small¬ 
er children could not touch the floor, in fact, 
the same kind of seats are used in some parts 
of Tennessee Mountains today) and began to 
look his pupils over. One little fellow called 
out, “ Say, Mister, when Miss Rider teached 
us she said the Lord’s Prayer as soon as we 
jumped our benches.” This made the teacher 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 173 

frown, and Lisita, who was not afraid, arose 
and with the help of Mollie and others, repeat¬ 
ed the Lord’s Prayer. So here was a good 
beginning, if only from the pupils. 

At this the teacher got up and proceeded to 
lay down a number of hard and fact rules, 
instead of saying with a smile, “Do right, is 
my motto, and those who can’t do right, please 
do as near right as you can, for I trust you 
will all work with me to advance morals, edu¬ 
cation, truth and righteousness that go hand 
in hand to make the citizenship of our great 
country.” After he laid down the rules he 
told them to turn to the first lesson in their 
readers and spellers. The new beginners 
were called and recited the A, B, C’s. Another 
class was called, to recite and they spelled a 
few words of two letters each in their spellers. 
Then the reading classes were called, one by 
one, up to the sixth reader. It was time for re¬ 
cess now and Lisita and Mollie who read in the 
sixth reader, waited until after recess to re¬ 
cite. A very short recess was given, and 
sometimes none at all, so they were soon call¬ 
ed again to their studies. Some of them 
worked a few examples, after which one class 
spelled, and they were dismissed for noon. 


174 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

The pupils hustled for their dinner pails and 
were soon eating the well prepared lunches 
their mothers had provided them. Jamie 
brought his bucket over and he and Lisita ate 
together. 

After lunch was over, the smaller girls 
made playhouses, using stones for seats and 
moss for carpet. And no doubt in after years 
the moss carpeted play house was a palace in 
memory. Some of the boys were scouring 
the woods close by and others were playing 
ball. Lisita and Mollie were walking arm in 
arm toward the spring by the roadside. Rob¬ 
ert Thompson had finished his lunch and was 
pacing up and down the aisle. He seemed to 
restless, as indeed he was, for a great ques¬ 
tion was confronting him, that must be an¬ 
swered soon. He looked out and saw Lisita 
and Mollie coming from toward the spring 
with a bucket of fresh water. A beautiful 
picture they made, and he thought how lonely 
he would be if it were not for one of them, 
and he was also interested in the other one. 
How would the time go in this lonely place, 
when the light in the home had gone out? He 
walked out in front of the schoolhouse and 
saw Victor Coewell coming down the road 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 175 

on horseback. Victor turned toward the 
schoolhouse. Robert Thompson was watch¬ 
ing very closely and he could not help seeing 
how happy the girls were to be in Victor’s 
company. When they reached the schoolhouse, 
Victor shook hands with the teacher and 
stopped to talk to him while the girls took the 
water in and put it on the bench. He asked 
the teacher to tell the scholars after they 
were called in, about the husking-bee at their 
home on Wednesday, and that he would like 
for any of them, or their parents to come that 
could do so, for he was not sure that every¬ 
one in the neighborhood had had an invita¬ 
tion After this he went out and played ball 
with the boys until the pounding of the knotty 
stick on the side of the house called them to 
their books. Then he untied Bess, waived 
good bye to the girls and was soon out of 
sight. 

The pupils took their places and were con¬ 
fronted by a new pupil, who was a very tall 
and slender youth. The teacher beckoned 
him to a seat. “ Weedy ” Newton was a poor 
boy who had never been inside of a school- 
house before, and when the First Reader was 
called, his six feet of height ambled along and 


176 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

took a front seat. Lisita and Mollie helped 
him with his lessons and he could soon read 
in the first reader. The day dragged along 
slowly to the teacher and he wondered 
whether he would be able to “hold his job 
down,” or not, but he was playing a part and 
this would help him. How he wished it were 
all at an end and he could claim the prize for 
which he was working. He heard a few more 
classes, asigned lessons for the next day and 
dismissed the school. Several of the scholars 
invited the teacher home with them, and soon 
their happy voices blended together, glad in 
the freedom of dismissal. They took the va¬ 
rious roads and bypaths leading to their sev¬ 
eral homes. Jamie lingered to sweep the 
floor and lay in kindling and a good sup¬ 
ply of wood for the next day. He soon fin¬ 
ished his work, and the old schoolhouse that 
had so lately been the scene of happiness and 
mirth was now quiet and still. The school- 
house where the sunbeams stealing in at the 
open door quickly pointed to noontide and 
were lost too soon in the quiet hush of eve¬ 
ning where shadows lay thick o’er the path¬ 
way of the homebound journey. 

Robert Thompson walked along ahead of 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 177 

the girls and when they reached the house 
in Cave Hollow, Mollie paused to walk with 
Lisita and then turned to the teacher, say¬ 
ing, “You must come and stay all night with 
us soon, Mr. Brown.” And he, longing to hear 
more of their history of former years in Scot¬ 
land, replied “ I will come tomorrow night.” 

At this Mollie started for home, and Lisita, 
Robert Thompson and Jamie, who had just 
arrived, went in to find supper ready. After 
supper Lisita assisted Joan Campbell in wash¬ 
ing the dishes and preparing things for break¬ 
fast and lunch the next day. Mollie hastened 
on to her home on the bluff, with her old dog 
Turk leading the way. She rushed in at the 
open door and found her father stooping over 
the coals where he was broiling some smoked 
fish for supper. 

“Ye cum a leetle mite airly, didn’t ye,” said 
her father. 

“ I don’t know what time he let out, but we 
had such a nice school and the teacher is com¬ 
ing to stay with us tomorrow night.” 

“I reckon he will hoflfer us with his first 
visit, then—the berries are soakin’ (He was 
speaking of blackberries which had been dried 


178 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

on a board in the sun) and taters an’ apples 
in the pan,” said the fisherman. 

After supper Mollie busied herself tidying 
up their humble cottage, and by daylight next 
morning she was on her way to Millgrove. 
She reached the house in Cave Hollow just 
as Lisita and Jamie were starting. What a 
lovely walk they had through the woodland. 
The stillness of the forest was broken by 
crushing of dry leaves under their feet and 
the falling of hickorynuts. Away to the east 
the sun was peeping over the hilltops and 
soon they heard the glad voices of their 
schoolmates who were already on the play¬ 
ground. School went on about the same as 
the day before except for the appearance of 
a new pupil or two. The teacher read a great 
deal and did not seem to be much interested 
in his pupils, and one day during this term of 
school at the noon hour, some of the older 
boys and girls who were not entirely satisfied 
with the usual, daily methods of recreation, 
borrowed a violin and repaired to a vacant 
cabin by the roadside, not far distant from 
the school house and hastily engaged in a 
“ backwoods ” or “ square dance.” When the 
hilarious notes of the “caller,” the harmon- 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 179 

ious strains of “Soldiers joy” issuing from 
the fiddle and the stamping of willing and 
lubberly feet blended together and had reach¬ 
ed their height, they were confronted by one 
of the pious trustees who immediately “called 
a halt ” and hastened in indignation to call a 
meeting of trustees to investigate the why’s 
and wherefore’s of such conduct. At the meet¬ 
ing one trustee said “ He was not only sur¬ 
prised but alarmed” and another earnestly 
declared as he swathed his “ swallow-tailed ” 
coat with a majestic sweep of his right hand 
“That all stoodents” should be larned to 
obey the Law and the Gaspel to the letter,” 
and it was the unanimous decision of the 
trustees on adjournment that the “law and 
Gaspel” in the neighborhood could be better 
adhered to without any “fiddlin’” or trip¬ 
pings of the “ fantastic toe, though the Good 
Book speaks of “ a Time to all Things ” they 
heartily agreed that its meaning’ was far from 
sich dance as this one. True to his promise, 
the next evening found Thompson on his way 
to the fisherman’s hut. As they neared the 
cabin on the bluff, smoke could be seen curling 
out of the chimney for the old fisherman had 
pulled the coals forward on either side of the 


180 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

fireplace where some fish were broiling, and 
to replenish the oven on the hearth in which 
a pheasant was roasting, and then replen¬ 
ished the fire with wood. 

Robert Thompson stood on the bluff for a 
moment and looked at the river with its peace¬ 
ful waters gliding noiselessly by, and then at 
the road under the bluff, that led to the old 
mill. Mollie stood at the open door, and as 
the old fisherman came forward, a smile 
lighting up his countenance, he said to his 
daughter “ Ye’ll find everything in readiness, 
wee wun,” and then he walked to where the 
teacher was standing on the bluff, shook 
hands with him and said, “We’re glad you’ve 
cum, Mr. Brown, and I hope your stay with 
us’ll be pleasant. My name is Grant—James 
Grant, though most everybody calls me ‘Uncle 
Jim’.” 

“ I was just looking at the river,” said the 
teacher. 

“Yes, it’s a fine view but away nicer by 
moonlight,” said the old fisherman as he led 
the way into the house and pointed his guest 
to a home-made rocker that sat in the corner. 
Mollie had taken up the roast fowl and put 
some bread to bake in the oven, while she 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 181 

spread the linen cloth and got everything in 
readiness for their evening meal. The fire 
burned brightly and delicious odors mingled 
with the crackling of the flames. After sup¬ 
per as the old fisherman smoked his pipe, his 
thoughts flew back to his early home in Scot¬ 
land and he told it all from beginning to end. 
Mollie thought the teacher was very much 
interested in her father’s talk, as she was 
herself. Next morning the old fisherman ac¬ 
companied them to Cave Hollow, where he 
got material for chair-making and then walk¬ 
ed through the field to where Cornelius Coe- 
well stood. Lisita and Jamie were waiting 
and they all went together. At noon the 
teacher had for lunch roast pheasant, broiled 
ham, apple pie, sweet cakes, biscuit and but¬ 
ter, and as he ate he thought one might do 
well to take up his abode with the old fisher¬ 
man and his comely daughter, for they had 
at least reached one of the avenues which it 
is said; one can go by to reach the heart. 





























CHAPTER XXV. 


THE HUSKING BEE. 

Away before daylight Wednesday morning, 
the house and barnyard at Coehern were 
scenes of activity. Cornelius Coewell filled 
the stove with wood and put a kettle of water 
on, then went out to the henhouse and select¬ 
ed a half dozen nice fowls to be dressed for 
dinner. Roanne was making up the beds, 
Sambo and Rachel were out in the barnyard 
milking and when they had finished Rachel 
brought the milk in, while Sambo stayed to 
get the oxen in line and place so many heavy 
yokes upon their strong necks. Eph was 
through currying the horses and was on his 
way to the dog kennel with pieces of corn 
pone for Truboy and his companions. Rachel 
had strained the milk into large crocks in the 
milk-house and was finishing up the break¬ 
fast work, assisted by another dusky maid¬ 
en, when Cornelius Coewell came up to the 
door with three chickens in each hand. 

183 


184 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“ Laws a massy, Marse Coewell! What yo’ 
done murder all dem chickens fo’? Doan yo’ 
know Marse Vick killed a deer yisterddy, an’ 
we are roastin a smoked ham too?” said 
Rachel. 

“ Well, I thought we had better have some 
chickens too, and they that don’t like deer 
meat can eat chickens.” 

“ Dat am so,” said Sambo, “ an’ I’se one dat 
doan like no deah meat when ar’s chickens an’ 
yams.” He had just got his oxen in line and 
they were curving gracefully around the yard 
fence. 

“Marse Coewell, whar do yo’ done want 
dat foddah and corn shocks put?” 

“ Drive on to the field. Victor will tell you,” 
said Mr. Coewell, and he turned to Roanne 
who had come to the door just as daylight was 
dawning bright and clear and said “ That 
little rain last night will help us out. It must 
be that Providence is aiding us in our work 
and if we have a good turnout today I believe 
we can finish both fields. We could have 
had it all done ourselves, but it seemed that 
Victor wanted a corn-shucking, and he’s got 
it.” 

“Yes,” said Roanne, “I am glad we left 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 185 

it. Our son cannot always be with us and I 
like to see him happy while he is here.” 

The subject of their conversation was al¬ 
ready riding toward the hill-field. They 
looked toward the river and several men were 
coming on horseback, and others walking 
from different directions. When Victor 
reached the field there were four or five men 
already at work. He tied Bess at the edge 
of the field and talked to the men awhile, then 
threw over a shock, put on his husking peg 
and worked briskly until he had finished it. 
Sambo arrived with the oxen and was put 
to hauling corn-shocks to the barnyard where 
they were to be piled in a big rick that night, 
for most of the young folks were not coming 
until evening, as school was going on. Eph. 
came later with horses and wagon to haul in 
the corn. The old fisherman had arrived and 
he and Cornelius Coewell were clearing out 
the cribs. “ These double cribs will hold a 
thousand bushels of corn on the cob, and the 
bins in the granary will hold about as much,” 
said Mr. Coewell. 

“ And I’ll prophesy ye’ll hev abundant to fill 
them if your crop turns out good,” said the 
fisherman. 


186 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

Their conversation was stopped by Sambo 
who came driving slowly up with several 
shocks of corn. He stopped about equal dis¬ 
tance between the house and barn and began 
to unload, placing the shocks in rows, end to 
end, ten long eight wide and eight deep, taper¬ 
ing some at the top. “ Some of Victor’s work,” 
said his father. 

“ If ye git this huskin’ over fore midnight, 
it’ll sprise me,” said the fisherman. 

“ Soon Eph arrived with a wagon-bed full 
of corn, and they helped him throw it in with 
broad shovels. Thus the morning passed 
away and hour by hour the cribs were being 
heaped up with the ripened grain. 

“I want the white corn put in the bin in 
the granary for it makes better meal,” said 
Mr. Coewell. “We could not want a better 
supper than a plate of mush made from it, 
and a bowl of milk,” said the fisherman. 

The morning soon passed away and noon¬ 
tide drew near. From the cornfield Eph was 
bringing another heapinng load of corn, 
Sambo with four yoke of oxen, was slowly 
moving along with several shocks of corn to 
add to the long pile that lay between the house 
and barn, and a number of men walking in 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 187 

single file, had passed through the big gate 
and were coming from the field, to partake 
of the bountiful feast. There were twenty 
in all and when they were seated around the 
table, weighted with all the luxuries of the 
age, Cornelius Coewell bowed his head (the 
rest following his example), and reverently 
thanked the Lord of all the harvests, for his 
bountiful supply, asking His blessing to rest 
on the food and the eater, and that this gath¬ 
ering of the grain might remind them of the 
sheaves that must be garnered for the great 
Heavenly Harvest, and that they as co-work¬ 
ers might be labourers side by side in the 
vineyard of the Lord. “Amen,” said the 
humble fisherman, and all who were present 
partook of that sumptuous meal with willing 
appetites. 

Finally the conversation turned to the old 
mill. “ Did you hear about the spook at the 
mill last night?,” said one man. 

“ Yes, I hearn sump thin of it,” said another. 

“ What about it?” asked Mr. Coewell. 

“ Well, it was grindin’ day at the mill yes¬ 
terday and Jeff Enon got there late and so 
many were ahead of him that he left his grist 
and went to town. It was late when he got 


188 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

back and the millhouse was closed. He tried 
the door but it was bolted so he went out to 
get on his horse and ride to the miller’s so 
as he’d come and get his grist for him but as 
he walked out past the old mill-rock that lay 
in front, he saw somethin’ acomin’ that looked 
as tall as a man It come right on up close 
to him, never saying a word, and stopped right 
in front of his horse, though it didn’t ’pear 
to notice it. I guess Jeff could not move out 
of his tracks, he was so skeered. He said he 
couldn’t see nothing, only it looked like the 
form of a man, and in a minute it turned and 
walked a few steps away, then took the form 
of somethin’ crawlin’. It then disappeared 
below the mill, and as it disappeared he heard 
a strange, low cry. Now, I am not telling it 
for the truth, but that’s the way Jeff told it, 
and he was skeered so he ran that old horse 
clear home, and left his grist.” 

“It seems mighty strange,” said Mr. Coe- 
well. “ I think it ought to be investigated. 

“ It seems like them that see it either stand 
still in their tracks, or run away, but never 
try to find out what it is,” said another. 

Seated around the table in that congenial 
home sixty years ago, was there one in that 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 189 

number who really wished to investigate? 

“ Lawsy, Marse Coewell, if dat mysterious 
rampagin at de mill haint stopped, de fear¬ 
someness ob dis gineration’ll grow worser and 
worser and when dese nat’ral bodies pass 
away, de ghosticisms’ll parade over ’em,” said 
Rachel. 

After dinner the husking-bee continued 
and many more loads of corn were added to 
that which was already in the double cribs, 
until they were packed full of the golden 
grain, the grain that would feed the herds and 
flocks that roamed silently over the broad 
fields and drank of the trickling waters that 
flowed through the pleasant valleys at Coe- 
hern. Eventide came on, glad eventide for 
the willing harvesters and with its coming a 
crowd of young folks with merry hearts gazed 
on the great pile of corn shocks that had been 
piled high between the granary and the house. 
Two ropes had been suspended from the top 
of the barn to the house, on either side of the 
pile of shocks on which so many lanterns 
hung and burned dimly, but not so dimly but 
that you could see many couples laughing 
with glee, forming a circle around the big 
corn rick. There were Victor and Lisita, side 


190 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

by side, Robert Thompson and the fisherman’s 
daughter, and others, making in all eight 
couples. As they kneeled by the rick, a rustic 
lad called out, “ Boys, if you find a red ear, 
don’t forget to do your duty.” They all 
laughed and another said he hoped he’d be in 
luck, while his fair partner blushed and work¬ 
ed on faster than ever. The older folks sat 
around the blazing fire and talked. The col¬ 
ored servants were feeding the stock, milking 
and doing up the supper work, while Roanne 
Coewell was having the long table in the din¬ 
ing-room filled with good things for the 
young, industrious “ corn-shuckers ” who 
were bringing the husking-bee to such a glori¬ 
ous close, by the light of their suspended lan¬ 
terns. 

Victor Coewell paused a minute, as he pull¬ 
ed the husks apart and saw a bright red ear 
of corn. He turned to his partner, who saw 
the red ear, smiled and drew her close in a 
loving embrace and placed his first kiss on her 
rosy cheek. As he threw the red ear on the 
heap, shouts of laughter went up and they 
all agreed that Coewell was in luck. Thomp¬ 
son was at the other side but had seen it all, 
and resolved in his heart that he would make 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 191 

an end of it at once. After the corn was all 
husked and put away, and the fodder had 
all been set up in big shocks and tied around 
with hickory withes, they marched to the 
house, couple by couple as they had husked 
corn, and were seated at the long table. They 
ate, laughed and talked, but Victor never lost 
sight of his partner, nor failed to see that she 
got a helping from all the choicest food, and 
then in his clever and genial way, saw that the 
most bashful ones did not leave the table 
hungry. 

William Alexander, who had arrived with 
Lisita in the evening, did not seem to be feel¬ 
ing well, and later fell from his chair. Victor 
picked him up as though he were a child, and 
placed him on a home-made couch, raised the 
window and dashed drops of cold water in 
his face. He soon revived and found Coewell 
bending over him. He opened his eyes and 
said, “ Just a little weakness or indisposition. 
I will soon be feeling better.” 

“ Are you subject to them?” asked Coewell. 

“No, sir, not often. I never had them 
until —” 

Robert Thompson came up, and the old man 


192 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

did not finish the sentence, but added; “ Go 
on with your party. I will soon get up.” 

Victor was back at Lisita’s side in a mo¬ 
ment, and as she drew the bow across the 
strings on the old violin, he heard a sound 
that filled his heart with gladness. After she 
had played the “Fisher’s Hornpipe,” the fish¬ 
erman drew forth a bagpipe he had brought 
from his hut, where it had lain for years. 
The leather sack was covered with dust and 
cobwebs, but when the tubes were polished 
that morning with a piece of “linsey,” they 
shone bright as ever, and its shrill notes 
brought applause from the whole crowd, for 
this was new to them. As its notes sounded, 
William Alexander sat upright and gazed on 
the instrument while his thoughts, as well as 
those of the fisherman, sped back to their 
native land across the sea. 

When the other couples took their places on 
the floor for the games, Victor led Lisita into 
the other room, told her of his love and a wish 
to claim her for his own. She answered with 
a smile, and said “ Some time. But I have 
a secret I must tell you first.” Long years 
afterward the happiness of this hour lingered 
in their memories; in sunshine and shadow 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


193 


when they were far apart, the thought of it 
was like a fertile spot in the desert, to a weary 
wanderer, footsore and tired, whose feet 
make deep furrows in the burning sand, but 
stops to rejoice when he sees an Oasis. So 
in after life when days seemed dark, and the 
future was wrapped in a mantle of mystery 
their thoughts returned to that evening when 
they plighted their love. 






% 










































































CHAPTER XXVI. 


THE LOST RETURNS. 

The same night of the husking-bee, when 
the folks returned to Cave Hollow, Lisita saw 
a bundle, and a pair of saddle-bags, lying on 
the table, but her thoughts were so occupied 
with the happy events of the evening that she 
passed them by almost unnoticed; went in 
where the old gentleman was sitting by the 
fire, and asked “ How he was feeling?” 

“Very well, now, my child,” answered he 
kindly. 

“I am so happy, Grandpa, and I’ll never 
forget this husking-bee,” said Lisita. 

At the name Grandpa, William Henry Alex¬ 
ander raised his kindly eyes and gazed long 
and intently on the beautiful face and slender 
form before him, whose countenance glowed 
with happiness, and whose lustrous, starry 
eyes shone with a wonderful light. As he sat 
there a vision of the past came to him and 
he seemed to see his great ancestors before 

195 


196 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

him, in youth and beauty, but what was the 
innocent girl to him, who had so mysteriously 
found her way to their cave-house a few 
months ago? After she bade him good night 
and went to her room, she returned to his 
bedside to see if he was resting well. As she 
adjusted the covers on the bed and stroked 
his forehead with her soft hand, she realized 
he was her only true friend in that house. 
As she left his bed, she turned again and look¬ 
ed on the kind old face from which she would 
be many miles away before daylight, though 
she did not think of such a thing when she 
stole softly to her room, took her place by the 
side of Joan Campbell, and soon fell into a 
pleasant slumber. 

About four o’clock in the morning she was 
rudely awakened by the old lady who said, 
“Be quick, Bonnie Lassie. Ye’ll soon be 
leavin’ this old hollow and the Laddie ye love, 
and when the sun comes up, spreadin’ its gude 
licht, ye’ll be ridin’ through the braes, and ye 
maun not trust the dark Laddie. I can but 
do his biddin’.” 

Lisita could scarcely realize the situation 
and wondered why she would speak so of her 
son, as she was led to the table where a glass 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 197 

of milk, eggs, ham and brown bread was set 
before her. Almost as soon as she had fin¬ 
ished, a dark form entered the room, threw 
a shawl over her head, carried her out in the 
darkness and placed her on one of the wait¬ 
ing ponies. When daylight dawned she was 
far from the vicinity of the old mill, riding 
the same brown pony that had carried her 
into the wilderness a few months ago. The 
deep forest, the cave and its mysterious in¬ 
habitants, which she had seen, opened her 
eyes to see, filled her with fear and a longing 
to be back in the vine covered cabin of her 
Aunt Nancy, the only home she had fever 
known. She realized that each hour she was 
being borne farther and farther away from 
Cave Hollow, the place where she had walked 
daily with a refined and competent teacher 
who had led her into the narrow paths where 
nature abounds in its fullness, taught her 
Bible, reading, writing, arithmetic and the 
use of language, and music. With the sweep 
of the bow across the old violin, she could 
rend the sweetest notes from its strings. 

In Cave Hollow she had met her first love 
and she was loth to leave it all and as she was 
being carried farther and farther away she 


198 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

wondered what the future held in store for 
her. She had learned much about her dark 
companion in the past few months—that he 
was wicked, cruel, dishonest and jealous she 
was sure, she did not fear him, as she had 
never come to any harm at his hands. But 
she did not know what he might contrive in 
the future, with his artful cunning. At 
nightfall the ponies travelled at a slower 
pace for they, as well as their riders, were 
tired of the long journey. Lisita saw the 
friendly light of a candle shining out from a 
small window of a log cabin by the roadside, 
and as they drew near she was neither sorry 
nor surprised to hear her dark companion 
call out “Hello,” and when someone answered 
ask if he could get a night’s lodging for him¬ 
self and his sister, who were on their way to 
attend a brother’s funeral. He told the peo¬ 
ple in the cabin that he and his sister would 
have to start by four o’clock next morning, 
to get there in time. 

“ I reckon we can keep you,” said the man 
in the cabin door. 

They alighted and went into the house 
while a pleasant looking lad took their ponies 
away to the stable, fed and watered them, and 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 199 

when he returned, placed more wood on the 
fire and took a seat near Lisita. In his friend¬ 
ly way he asked many questions about their 
journey but found out very little truth for 
Thompson made his own story. He did not 
like the friendly youth who seemed so inter¬ 
ested in Lisita, and was glad when they went 
to their beds in the loft. Lisita slept with one 
of the girls, and her first thought was to slip 
away in the night, but she abandoned the 
plan lest someone would hear her, and soon 
fell asleep. In her dreams she was back in 
the old Hollow, following the narrow path to 
Millgrove, and stood again by the side of her 
stalwart, handsome lover at Coehern, and as 
the vine covered cabin of her Aunt Nancy 
came to view, she was awakened by someone 
stirring in her room, and a friendly hand 
touched her and told her breakfast was ready. 
It was the girl who had slept with her. She 
arose, dressed herself by the lighted candle 
on the window-sill, combed her hair, and fol¬ 
lowed the girl to the kitchen where she found 
a basin of water to wash in, after which she 
was seated at the breakfast table with her 
dark companion. 

“It’s chilly this mornin’ an’ goin’ out so 


200 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

early you must wrap up well or you’ll get 
cold ridin’,” said the old lady to Lisita. 

“ I have a shawl,” said Lisita. 

The pleasant-faced youth came in and told 
them their ponies were ready. Lisita put on 
her hood and threw her shawl around her 
shoulders as the youth walked up, escorted 
her to the pony and easily lifted her into the 
saddle. They were not charged anything for 
their night’s lodging, and asked to stop again 
on their return. Thompson, who was not in 
a good humor, kept the ponies going at a good 
pace. He told Lisita every hour was taking 
her farther from her ardent lover at Coehern 
and it was his wish that she forget him, for 
she would likely never meet him again. 

“ I shall never forget him,” said she. 

“ Oh, you won’t? Then I can prove to you 
in time that he loves the fisherman’s daugh¬ 
ter.” 

Lisita had thought at times that Victor and 
Mollie were indeed true friedns, but could 
not there be a deeper friendship? This filled 
her with wonder, and Thompson, who felt he 
had gained a point in the game he was play¬ 
ing, asked her how she liked the looks of the 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 201 

friendly youth at the cabin where they found 
lodging. 

“ I liked his looks much better than yours,” 
she replied. 

“ Oh, I thought so. Most anyone would like 
such a friendly ‘greenhorn’,” said he. 

“ He merely treated me with respect and I 
admire him for his open frank countenance, 
and friendly manner in which I am sure one 
would find no trace of treachery or dishon¬ 
esty,” said she. 

“If my plans work, you’ll never see him or 
Coewell again,” said he. 

Lisita made no answer and as they rode 
silently along a fear came over her and she 
wondered what the future really held in its 
depths. The sun was coming up over the hill¬ 
tops, filling the land with its warmth and 
light. The frost was disappearing from the 
fence rails along the road, the birds were war¬ 
bling in the trees and a squirrel was slyly 
creeping up and winding its way around a 
slender hickory tree in a fence corner. 

Everything seemed to be glad this morning. 
Yes, glad and free, thought Lisita, and she 
who had recently been so happy, now a cap¬ 
tive riding through a strange country, far 


202 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

from home and friends. In the evening a 
flock of wild geese were seen flying south and 
the country around looked familiar to Lisita. 
In an hour’s time they were in sight of the 
little church where she and her Aunt Nancy 
had spent many happy hours. A wonderful 
light filled her eyes as the scenes of her early 
years came to view. She almost looked and 
spoke pleasantly to her dark companion now 
for she could not conceal her happiness when 
she knew that each minute she was drawing 
closer to the home of her childhood. In the 
twilight, at the edge of the field, he told her to 
alight and when she jumped to the ground 
he took her pony by the reins, gave her a 
bundle, and was off down the narrow path, 
calling back “ I will come for you again when 
all is ready.” She heard the ponies’ hoofbeats 
against the gravel in the path as they went 
farther and farther away, and she knew she 
was free again. As she walked across the 
field, thoughts of her Aunt Nancy filled her 
mind. She wondered if she were alive and 
well and a great longing filled her as the vine 
covered cabin came to view It was dark now 
and the little candle burned brightly in the 
window, as indeed it had ever since that 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 203 

bright evening in June when she did not re¬ 
turn from the berry field. She came up close 
to the window and saw her Aunt Nancy in the 
kitchen preparing the evening meal, while a 
youthful lad was sitting by the open fire, with 
a book in his hand. 

As she pulled the latch-string the boy arose 
to his feet and saw a slender girl running to¬ 
ward the open arms of Nancy Lake, which 
closed around her in a loving embrace. 

“ My child, how you have changed,” said 
Nancy Lake, who saw before her Lisita, not 
the same little girl who had disappeared so 
mysteriously some months ago, but instead a 
graceful, womanly form stood before her, 
from whose eyes shone a wonderful light, a 
light that had been kindled in the heart by the 
flame of love. 

“Where have you been, child, all these long 
days?” 

“ Way off, Auntie. You are just the same, 
only you have a girl and a boy now,” said 
Lisita. 

“ Wip ” lay down his book and smiled as 
Lisita and her aunt talked on. 

“ I smell sassafras tea,” said Lisita, and she 
turned, to see the kettle boiling on the stove. 


204 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

When they had finished supper she told 
them of the cave house far away, of its occu¬ 
pants, of the fisherman and his daughter and 
of the Coewells. “ How strange it seems that 
cave-dwellers would come so far to steal you 
away. There must be some hidden secret be¬ 
hind it all,” said Nancy Lake. 

“ Gee, I’d like to see the cave. I’ll bet there’s 
Injuns there,” said “ Wip.” 

“ The old man was so kind to me and taught 
me so many things I would not have known 
otherwise.” 

“ What was his name?” asked Nancy Lake. 

“They went by the name of Brown but the 
old man told me that was not his right name 
and he would tell me all some day, but it is 
too late now,” said Lisita. 

Then her aunt told her of a box that had 
been left in her care years ago and as she 
described it Lisita’s thoughts were back in 
the Cave where an old cedar chest sat in the 
corner, whose lid was opened when the old 
man seemed to be looking for something. He 
had placed a heavy, leather wallet, filled with 
shining gold pieces, on the floor and given 
her other things to hold while he was search¬ 
ing to the very bottom of the chest and she saw 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 205 

a box similar to the one her Aunt described. 

“ I have seen just such a box somewhere,” 
said Lisita, and her aunt, thinking it was still 
where she had kept it for years, nodded 
assent. 

They retired at a late hour and Nancy Lake 
lay awake and pondered over the girl’s dis¬ 
appearance, her return and the strange in¬ 
habitants of the cave. 

“ How nice it is to have a brother,” said 
Lisita the next morning as she seated herself 
at the spinning wheel, while the wool was 
drawn and twisted into yarn and wound 
around so many spools. Her thoghts flew 
back to Coehern. Soon an idea presented it¬ 
self. Yes, I will write him a letter, thought 
she. Lisita could write well and she told the 
whole story on paper, sealed it in an envelope 
and the boy took it to the postoffice three miles 
away. As she took her place at the spinning 
wheel again, she thought—Victor will soon 
know where I am and why I was not at home 
when he called on Thanksgiving. 

Wherever Lisita went, following her al¬ 
ways the thought of her dark companion’s 
parting words, that he would return for her 
when all was ready. 






CHAPTER XXVII. 


A TRAVELLER ON THE HIGHWAY. 

When Cecil Cox came face to face with the 
shabbily dressed traveller who removed his 
wig and glasses, he saw it was a wily detec¬ 
tive, sent by a brother from an agency in 
London, whom he had met once before across 
the water, on a case that was clouded in mys¬ 
tery. The detective knew Cox at once, and 
also knew why he was in America, for he had 
been working on the case for four months 
and knew the names of every one who had 
sailed for this country since, and before he 
agreed to endeavor to clear up the mystery 
that concealed William Alexander and his 
bags of gold. The detective drew near Mr. 
Cox and taking some pictures from his vest 
pocket, asked if he had seen anyone in this 
country whom the pictures resembled. 

“ No, sir, but I know now that our search 
or our interests are mutual.” 

“ Any newcomers in this section, since 

207 


208 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

about April, I would say?” said the detective. 

“Well, now, let me see. Not that I know of, 
I guess, except a family of Browns from Penn¬ 
sylvania. I heard Mr. Coewell say he sold 
them a piece of land this Fall,” answered Mr. 
Cox. 

“ How far is it to Coewells?” asked the de¬ 
tective. 

“About twenty-five miles, almost due north 
of here,” said Mr. Cox. 

“ Very well,” said the detective. “ We must 
be strangers from now on, unless we are en¬ 
tirely alone. Do you understand?” 

Mr. Cox nodded his head in the affirmative 
and the detective hastily replaced his wig and 
glasses. When they met again in the sitting- 
room of the tavern, they talked of common¬ 
place things, and toward nightfall the shab¬ 
bily dressed stranger paid for his lodging and 
went on his way. Mr. Cox felt sure now that 
sooner or later his brother-in-law would be 
found—but what of the delicate, brown-eyed 
baby, whose picture was carried with the 
rest? He did not quite understand it all. 

The detective was on another mission as 
well as to search for the old man and his gold, 
a mission to locate the son who stayed in this 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 209 

country after his father returned to Scotland 
years ago, and to learn whether or not the 
son had a family. They knew nothing defin¬ 
ite about the son, but had heard that he was 
dead. The detective knew, as he walked along 
the highways, or in lonesome bypaths, that 
they were looking to him to unravel the whole 
proceeding in detail, and he felt he was equal 
to the task, though it would take some time 
for he must travel miles and miles on foot in 
order to reach all the parties he wished to 
see. 

He spent the night at a farmhouse a few 
miles from the tavern, and the next morning 
he threw the bundle, tied up in a red hand¬ 
kerchief, across his shoulder and moved slow¬ 
ly along toward Horn Creek, where he 
thought he could get news of the son. Some¬ 
times he posed as a tramp, other times as a 
beggar or a fortune-teller. Many times he 
slept in a stable loft and early next morning 
slowly pursued his way. In early December 
he finally reached Horn Creek and stopped at 
a cabin of an old settler where he thought 
he would be apt to get some information. He 
had left the main road and come through a 
clearing on the hillside. When he reached 


210 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

the foot of the hill, he saw a clump of trees, 
and as he drew nearer he found a spring of 
clear water, shaded by the trees, with a gourd 
hanging close by on the limb of a small tree. 
He reached the gourd, dipped it into the clear, 
cold water, raised it to his lips and drank the 
refreshing draught from its broad sides. As 
he hung the gourd on the limb, he looked 
through the clump of trees to the cabin on the 
bank of the creek and saw two men engaged 
in a wrestling match. When he reached the 
cabin and asked for a night’s lodging, he was 
met at the door by an old man, with dark com¬ 
plexion, who inquired as to the stranger’s 
business. 

“I am visiting friends and relatives, but 
have missed my way,” said the detective. 

“Who are your relatives?” asked the old 
man. 

“Alexander—William Alexander. Do you 
know anything of him?” asked the detecitve. 

“Well, no, I reckon not, but I guess he’s 
dead.” 

Try as he would, the detective could not 
get any more information there, but was di¬ 
rected to another house seven miles away for 
information. This of course, was misleading, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 211 

but the detective felt the old man had an un¬ 
earthed secret and his silence added to the 
chain of evidence. The detective was unde¬ 
cided whether or not he must go to the house 
designated by the old man, but at last decided 
to go for he at least must know just why he 
wanted him to visit the house many miles 
away. Some days later he arrived at the house 
to which he was directed by the old man on 
Horn Creek. He was met at the door by a tall 
man who resembled the old settler who had 
sent him there, but was younger, and the de¬ 
tective knew at a glance that the old man had 
sent him to his brother. 

“ Can I get a night’s lodging?” asked the 
detective. 

“ No, sir, we don’t keep strangers,” said 
the man in the door. 

“ Do you know any Alexanders in this sec¬ 
tion?” asked the detective. 

“ If you’re lookin ’for them, you’re in the 
wrong neighborhood, cause there’s nobody by 
that name for miles around,” said the man 
in the door. 

“How long have you lived here?” asked 
the detective. 

“Nigh on to twenty years, I spect, and be- 


212 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

sides I don’t think a big land-holder would 
want a tramp like you around,” said the man 
in the door. 

“Who is the big land-holder?” asked the 
detective. 

The man in the door stood like a statue and 
would not say anything farther, on the sub¬ 
ject. The detective asked the way to Free¬ 
man’s Creek, and when he was directed took 
exactly the opposite direction, for he knew 
by the map he carried in his pocket he had 
been told to go in the wrong direction. After 
a few days travel through the rain and snow 
he reached Freeman’s Creek and found lodg¬ 
ing at a large farmhouse where he found con¬ 
tentment and quiet—where a herd of cattle 
roamed over the fields — where hams of 
meat hung in the smoke house — great logs 
of wood were burning in the fire-place and 
the hum of the spinning wheel could be heard 
within, while outside the soft gurgling of the 
restless waters of the creek flowing ever on¬ 
ward, reminded him of time’s ceaseless flight. 

After Robert Thompson left Lisita in the 
woods by the cleared field, he sped like an ar¬ 
row in its flight, headed for Cave Hollow and 
on Sunday evening about sunset, he passed 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 213 

the old mill and was riding one pony up the 
narrow path, while the other followed in the 
rear. When he reached the house he found 
Joan and Jamie Campbell at the sppper table, 
while the old man, with bowed head, sat be¬ 
fore the fire. 

‘‘Not eating supper, old man? Well, if 
your appetite isn’t good we’lll see that you 
take more wine.” said Thompson. 

The old man made no reply for he knew 
that he was in treacherous hands and the 
only friend he had was the girl who had 
brought so much happiness to him, and in 
whom he was so much interested. She had 
gone, disappearing at once, leaving no trace. 
The so-called wine he feared like a serpent, 
for it had a peculiar taste, caused him to sleep 
and on waking he felt a sickening sensation 
and was too weak to walk for some time. He 
felt sure now that this was taking his life by 
degrees, and a larger dose might be given at 
any time. The thought filled him with fear— 
he had not forgotten the cruel treatment the 
night of the husking-bee and he resolved to 
let someone know as soon as he could, lest he 
fill an unknown grave in a strange land, and 
his possessions fall into the hands of treach- 


214 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

erous deceivers. A hand touched him rough¬ 
ly on the shoulder and he looked up to meet 
the wicked look in Thompson’s dark eyes. 

“ Old man, I mean to stay it out till Spring, 
at Millgrove, and if any of them Coewells 
come prowling around, show no sociability 
and tell them the girl went to Pennsylvania to 
spend the winter with her sister. Do you 
hear, sir?” 

The old man did not intend to do so, and 
would not even nod his head. This made 
Thompson very angry and he shoved the old 
man from his chair to the floor and kicked 
him a number of times. This brought Joan 
and Jamie Cambpell into the room. They 
were afraid to say much but disliked to see 
the old man treated so cruelly and when 
Thompson stepped out, they picked him up 
and laid him on the bed. 

The Coxes stayed at the tavern a few days 
after the detective left, then set out for a trip 
to locate his brother. They drove along slow¬ 
ly for two or three days, stopping at night 
for lodging and to have their horses cared 
for. They came to a little store at the forks 
of the road, about fifty miles from the tavern 
and were told there was a family of Coxes 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 215 

on a farm about two miles further. Philip 
Cox (the brother they were searching for) 
had reached this country many years ago and 
settled in Gilmer county. He owned a farm 
and had raised a large family of thrifty and 
industrious children. That very day they had 
butchered a number of hogs, and while they 
were working with the meat in the smoke¬ 
house, he thought of his relatives across the 
sea, and wondered if he would ever see them 
again. 

About dark of the same evening, a spring 
wagon drew up and stopped in the stable lot. 
“ Who can it be,” he said, as he hastened out 
to meet them, and found his brother and his 
wife from across the sea. A friendly hand¬ 
shake ensued, while glistening tears filled 
their eyes— tears of joy, for though the broad 
waters of the Atlantic lay between their 
homes, they had at last found each other. 
After a two weeks’ visit with his brother and 
his family, who had so warmly received them, 
they bade them good-bye, and as they drove 
from his sight, they felt sure they would 
never meet him again on earth. 

“ This visit to our brother will more than 


216 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

pay us for our trip,” said Mrs. Cox, as they 
drove along. 

“Yes, that was a visit in a hundred, but 
I am sorry we could not learn anything defn- 
ite about our nephew’s death,” said Cecil Cox. 

They had heard that he died about fifteen 
years before but had never learned the cause 
of his death. After a three days’ drive they 
returned to Coewells. 


CHAPTER XXVIII 


STILL FOLLOWING THE GLEAM. 

The morning after the husking-bee at Coe- 
hern, Cornelius Coewell walked out past the 
granary and on up the slope where three 
chestnut trees stood in a row against the hill¬ 
side, then followed the narrow path that led 
to the summit of a hill called Indian Rest, 
where so many rocky mounds marked the 
Indians’ quiet resting place. As he stood on 
the summit of Indian Rest and viewed his 
home, surrounded by fertile fields which 
yielded abundant crops, the sun in its crim¬ 
son beauty, as it rose o’er the hilltops, covered 
the land with gladness and light, as if it were 
the smile of the Lord. And he felt that Provi¬ 
dence, whose ways are sometimes mysterious, 
had guided him in the paths of peace and 
plenty. The wheat and oats had been cradled, 
stacked and threshed—a wagon load of wheat 
had been hauled away and ground into flour 
for bread; the corn had been cut, shocked 

217 


218 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

and husked; the potatoes had been dug, dried 
out and buried in large mounds in the garden; 
the apples had been picked, sorted and put 
into barrels or buried; the flax that grew in 
abundance, had been pulled, stacked in heaps 
to rot, taken through the brake, hackled, 
swingled and spun into a thousand threads 
which Roanne would weave into a wonderful 
piece of cloth. Ten hogs had been butchered 
and the long boards that reached from one 
end of the meat-house to the other, were bend¬ 
ing under their heavy load of hams and 
shoulders going through the process of tak¬ 
ing salt before being packed away in the 
large hogshead till February, when it would 
be taken out and put on the wooden hooks to 
hang from the rafters of the dark, old smoke¬ 
house. The ash-hoppers whose sides were 
bulging with ashes from the fireplace, were 
filled higher and higher till spring, when 
moistened with rain-water, they ran lye for 
soap making. Great long piles of stove- 
wood had been placed beneath the shed in the 
wood-lot, a large pile of back-logs lay close 
by, and a pile of fire-wood, green and dry, lay 
close to the chopping-block. Bags of home¬ 
made cheese were dripping from white cloths 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 219 

in the milk-house, the poultry roamed through 
the barnyard and the tinkle of the sheep-bell 
could be heard in the field. 

Cornelius Coewell, contented and happy 
with his lot, while viewing the landscape from 
the gentle elevation of Indian Rest, was filled 
with memories of an earlier day. Many 
changes had taken place there since his grand¬ 
father secured a deed from the Government 
had his land surveyed and built his cabin 
home. He had heard his father say “ every 
foot of it was woodsland then,” and the tow¬ 
ering trees that cut off the view to the river 
formed a hiding place for wild turkeys, deer 
and bear, and the red man with his stealthy 
stride, who was once so happy on this spacious 
hunting ground, had at last found a quiet 
sleeping place on the crested sward of Indian 
Rest, after which he hoped to meet his broth¬ 
er warriors again on the great Happy Hunt¬ 
ing Ground beyond. But now the long, level 
strips of land, lying between the house and 
the river, looked as though a tree had never 
grown there, or taken root in its fertile soil. 
He thought of the time when he came home 
to the log cabin, bringing Roanne as his 
young bride. They had ridden through the 


220 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

country for over fifty miles, fording streams 
that were almost deep enough to swim, their 
horses surmounting every obstacle that lay 
between them and their destination until they 
reached the cabin home, where a wedding 
supper was waiting for them, with warm 
greetings from the kind old mother and fa¬ 
ther, and a few neighbors who had gathered 
in, to await their coming. 

The other children were all married and 
in homes of their own. He remembered how 
he and Roanne had lived with, and taken care 
of the old folks until they found a resting 
place beneath the pine on the bluff overlook¬ 
ing the river. He thought how they had pros¬ 
pered from year to year, how the sons had 
come to brighten their lives, and how the 
old cabin home he loved so well, had grown 
into a modern mansion. He heard footsteps 
behind him and turned, while a cheerful 
“ guid mornin’ ” came from the lips of the old 
fisherman. “Ye hev been blessed, Cornelius, 
and rightly so,” said the fisherman. 

“ Why so, my good friend?” asked Mr. Coe- 
well. 

“ The Guid Book tells us ‘Ye never see the 
righteous forsaken, nor their seed beggin’ 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 221 

bread/ and I hev found it true,” answered 
the fisherman. 

“ There are none good, no, not one,” re¬ 
plied Mr. Coewell. 

The fisherman and Mr. Coewell walked 
down the slope together. On their way down, 
they looked across to the hill-field and saw 
Victor riding toward the low-gap. When 
Victor arrived in Cave Hollow, a great still¬ 
ness seemed to hover around the house like 
the stillness of death. He tied his horse and 
knocked on the door but no friendly voice said 
“come in.” He knocked again and heard 
footsteps within. Joan Campbell opened the 
door and nodded coldly to his friendly greet¬ 
ing. She did not invite him in but cautiously 
handed him a note. He unfolded it and read 

‘ ‘ Dear Friend: 

“ I am going to my sister’s in Pennsylvania to spend 
the winter. Will write you later. 

“LISITA.” 

He raised his head and looked at the old 
lady for a moment with an expression of won¬ 
der, tipped his hat and was off down the Hol¬ 
low. He thought as he rode along of how 
coldly the old lady had met him. He was 
sure they did not want him to come in, for 
she had not even asked him in. The old gen- 


222 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

tleman was nowhere to be seen. He hoped no 
evil fate would come between him and the 
beautiful maiden he had chosen for his wife. 
A few evenings after this, a man with a dark 
complexion, asked for Coewell’s mail, at the 
postoffice. He was handed a letter for Victor, 
and a paper, but this letter that would have 
brought much happiness to Victor was des¬ 
tined to find a hiding place in a dark crevice 
of the strange, underground cavern, and an¬ 
other letter was sealed in the same envelope. 
So busy was the postmaster with other mail 
that he failed to see the dark-eyed man drop 
the letter and paper on the counter and hur¬ 
ry out to his waiting pony. He was a mile 
or more away before the old postmaster no¬ 
ticed them lying on the counter. “ That man 
is too forgetful to carry mail,” said the post¬ 
master, and he put them back in the office. 

When Sambo went to the postoffice the next 
day, he got the letter and some papers. When 
he reached Coehern he handed the mail to 
Mrs. Coewell. “ A letter for Victor,” said she, 
and laid it on the mantel. When Victor came 
in late in the evening it was handed to him. 
He smiled, hastily tore it open and read as 
follows: 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 223 
“ Dear Friend: 

“I am sorry I gave you the promise I did on the 
night of the huskingbee for I cannot fulfill it, and I 
regret very much that I answered your important ques¬ 
tion so hastily. My father thinks I am too young to get 
married, and I know it. From now on I will live with 
my sister and I bid you adieu. 

“ LISITA.” 

Victor read and re-read it as though it were 
not true. Yet it must be for she had written 
it in her own hand, and he must believe it, 
even if it was a great blow to him. He tore it 
into sherds and threw it behind the back-log. 
It has not called for an answer, then why re¬ 
ply? thought he. He picked up his hat and 
said “ Mother, I’ll be back after awhile.” His 
stalwart form soon disappeared in the dark¬ 
ness. No night had ever seemed so dark to 
him before, and as he followed the narrow 
path across the field to the fisherman’s hut, 
with heavy heart, he could not get it out of 
his mind that a great shadow lay between 
him and happiness. Thoughts of the happy 
days they had spent together, must smoulder 
and die, under the ruins of the castle that love 
had built. The future looked dark but as he 
saw the dim light shining out of the window, 
in the fisherman’s hut, he made a firm resolve. 


224 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


He could hear voices within and he knocked 
on the door. A friendly voice said “ Come in ” 
and he pulled the latch-string and stood in 
the presence of the fisherman and his daugh¬ 
ter, who were sitting by a bright fire, talking 
over the events of the day. They gave him a 
warm welcome, and the old man who had 
been his advisor and friend, was smoking his 
pipe while great wreaths of smoke enveloped 
his kind, old face. 

“ How are you this evening, Uncle Jim?” 

“Well enough, I guess. We were talk : ng 
over some happenings at school. It seems 
that the people are turnin’ agin the teacher 
and some of ’em are stoppin’ their children, 
though Moll seems to be likin’ it very well,” 
said the fisherman, and as Victor saw the 
sparkle in her eyes, he guessed the reason. 

“ I am in trouble, Uncle Jim,” said Victor. 

“ Why so, my boy?” 

Then Victor related the whole story of his 
visit to Cave Hollow, the cold reception he re¬ 
ceived from the old lady, and the letter. 

“Well, gurls ’ll change their minds you 
know, but trouble, young man, is a chastenin’ 
rod that brings us to higher and better 
things,” answered the fisherman. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 225 

“ I am sorry she is gone. We will miss her 
so much at school,” said Mollie. 

Victor stayed until ten o’clock then bade 
them good-night. Ae he walked homeward 
he heard a low wail in the direction ofthe 
low-gap. He listened again and was sure it 
was a dog, but it changed and sounded more 
like a human voice, then died away on the 
night wind. Victor ran toward the Low-gap 
but when he got there everything was still. 
He went back to the house, and as he went by 
the cabin of Uncle Sambo and Aunt Rachel, 
they seemed to be in great fear. 

“ Dem ghosts am sho awful, and am gitti i* 
too tame fo’ me, and I specks nothin’ short 
ob a murder’ll be do poformance fo long,” said 
Aunt Rachel. 

Victor went to bed and rose early next 
morning. When they sat down to breakfast, 
he said, “ Mother, I have decided to go out to 
Maryland again and study medicine under 
my old teacher. I want to be ready to go this 
evening.” 

His mother was pleased, for she was so 
anxious that he learn the profession, and af¬ 
ter breakfast she busied herself getting his 
clothes ready, raised the lid from the old iron 


226 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

pot, took out some gold pieces and gave to 
him. That evening as he walked down the 
lane to the river, he resolved firmly, as he 
had the night before, to follow the gleam of 
the woodland to its very summit. As he 
passed from their sight, he heard the slaves 
in the cabin singing, “Sweet Chariot.” As 
the sound of their voices died away in har¬ 
monious notes, he realized his boyhood home 
had passed away forever. The corn-stalk 
fiddle and the water-wheel he used to make, 
no longer interested him, and from now on he 
must be a man, not only in name, but in deeds, 
and to aid the world by knowing his profes¬ 
sion and practicing it. He did not realize 
now that he would be called at all times, night 
or day, to ride for miles through the lonesome 
country, and patiently wait by the bedside of 
those who were in the throes of death, until 
the crisis had passed—that his calomel and 
quinine would fail in its desired effects on a 
patient, whom the Great Physician saw fit to 
number with the silent dead, and that he 
must win his name in the honorable profes¬ 
sion, by patient service rendered to his fellow 
man, rich or poor. 

Victor reached the village that night and 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 227 

took the first boat down the river the next 
morning. As he stood upon the deck and 
watched the waves rise and fall, as they glid¬ 
ed farther and farther away until they were 
out of sight, the image of a brown eyed 
maiden was ever before him. 




CHAPTER XXIX. 


LISITA, A TEACHER. 

The hum, hum of the spinning-wheel had 
ceased in the home of Nancy Lake on every 
day in the week except Saturday but the 
thwack of the heavy loom could be heard 
early and late, for Nancy Lake was left alone 
all day while Lisita and “ Wip ” attended 
school at the little church at the forks, a 
building that served as both schoolhouse and 
church. She worked at the heavy old loom 
with a glad heart and willing hands, for the 
lost girl who had been a ray of sunshine in 
the cabin, had returned and she must weave 
sufficient cloth to make under and outer gar¬ 
ments for a family of three, besides a few 
yards extra with which to clothe some orphan 
children of the neighborhood. With the help 
of the boy she had sheared the sheep, picked 
and washed the wool, bleached and dried it. 
When it was thoroughly bleached and dried 

229 


230 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

she carded it, or drew it through a wire brush 
and twisted it into long, slender rolls. 

Lisita had arrived in time to spin it into 
yarn. In late July “ Wip ” had pulled and 
spread the flax, rippled it when dry, tied it in 
bundles, stacked and rotted it, and took it 
through the brake. He and his Aunt Nancy 
had swingled and hackled it and then came 
the drawing and spreading to separate the 
rolls into slivers and spread them according 
to their fineness. Lisita had also spun it into 
flaxen thread. Nancy had sat at the loom 
all day, where a strong and durable cloth was 
in the making and every stroke of the heavy 
beam sent a thread of the woof over and un¬ 
der the warp, to lie evenly and snugly up to 
the one that had preceded it, to take its place 
in the strong cloth in which every separate 
thread that had been shoved home, must take 
a part in the grand whole. No fabric is 
stronger than its weakest thread,—no school 
above its pupils and teacher,—no college is 
stronger than its professors and instructors, 
—no country is greater than its rulers and 
people. Then who is strong? 

When a nation inhabited largely by for¬ 
eigners coming from time to time can mingle 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 231 

together for enlightment, and work together 
for the betterment of each other’s cause, as 
though it were one, and thus make the weak 
ones strong, and in so doing give strength to 
the whole nation. And a nation of people 
cannot grow strong and stand, without call¬ 
ing on Him for aid, who is Strength. 

Nancy Lake turned from the loom to look 
at the large, old clock, (called Grandfather’s 
Clock today), on the mantel, and was sur¬ 
prised to see it was four o’clock. She left the 
loom, went to the fireplace, picked up the 
shovel and stirred the ashes to see if she 
could find some live coals. But alas! She 
had sat at the loom too long and the fire had 
entirely died out. There were matches in 
those days hut most people never allowed the 
fire to die out from year to year. She took 
up two flint rocks and hastily struck them to¬ 
gether with downward motion of the right 
hand. The flying sparks caught in a piece 
of scorched tow and was blown into a flame, 
which set the shavings on fire, and a bright 
blaze soon burned on the hearth. When it 
burned into coals, a shovelful was taken to 
the kitchen stove and soon the oven of the 
stove was hot enough to bake bread for their 


232 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

evening meal. When supper was about ready 
she heard voices outside. She opened the door 
and met “ Wip’s ” pleasant smile. 

“Say, Aunt, they want her, (pointing to 
Lisita), to teach the school now, ’cause the 
teacher took sick.” 

Nancy Lake looked in wonder from one 
to the other, and said “I wonder if she 
could?” 

“ Oh, ’course she can. She’s teached us 
more’n anybody else has, an’ I’ll see ’at she 
gits there every mornin’, said the boy. 

Lisita was amused at the boy’s opinion of 
her, and felt sure if the other scholars had the 
same opinion of her, she would have good suc¬ 
cess. “ I can try it, Auntie,” said Lisita. 

“That’s so,” said Nancy Lake, and new life 
seemed to spring up within her as she thought 
how nice it would be for the little girl, who 
had been left with her, to really be a teacher 
—and besides, she could earn some money. A 
song floated out from her lips, and as she 
spread the cloth its strains floated upward 
until they could be heard no more, like the 
steam from the tea kettle on the stove, that 
faded into vapor. The ham that was frying 
in the skillet, made a hissing sound and its 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 233 

savory odors filled the little cabin. The boy 
was doing up the chores and Lisita’s mind 
seemed to be occupied with thoughts of her 
own. She wondered what her stalwart lover 
would think, if he knew she had been chosen 
to fill the teacher’s place. He must at least 
know where she was and why she left Cave 
Hollow, by this time, for she had sent him a 
letter more than a week ago, and she knew 
they got their mail every week. And again 
thoughts of the school-house filled her mind. 
She knew she could teach reading, writing 
and arithmetic, to the Rule of Three, but how 
could she manage little Tommy Hunter, who 
was constantly pilfering? She reached a sud¬ 
den decision and was sure it would solve the 
problem. 

Just then “ Wip ” came running in and 
handed Lisita a letter, saying “ I got it at the 
postoffice at noon, but we got to playin’ and I 
fegot all about it, till I took off my coat to 
climb in the stable loft, an’ I seen its white 
edge stickin’ out.” 

“ You are a good boy, not to lose it.” 

She hastily tore it open but to her surprise 
it read as follows: “Kind Friend—I regret 
that I asked you the question I did for I am 


234 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 


anxious to get an education before I am bur¬ 
dened with a wife. I admit I was too hasty, 
not knowing any more about you, or on such 
short acquaintance. Hope you will pardon 
me and forget our short courtship. Victor.” 
These words sounded so unlike the words 
Coewell had spoken to her and a deep gloom 
seemed to settle around her as she held the 
letter tightly folded in her hand. She did not 
read it again but concealed it in a crevice 
where it lay for some time. 

“ Call me at six o’clock in the morning, 
Auntie. Good night,” said Lisita. 

The darkness of the night had fallen and a 
group of dark clouds seemed to bound her 
horizon, as she lay in bed, her head cushioned 
on a downy pillow. Her thoughts flew back 
to Cave Hollow, but the dream of the wood¬ 
land was ended. Love’s Dream that had 
been swept away by the cruel waters of pride, 
like a leaf in a mighty gale. 

The flowers she plucked in the wildwood by 
the side of her old teacher, had decayed: the 
laughing brook was lost to her forever, and 
only one lesson remained with her— the les¬ 
son she had learned from the books of her 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 235 

old teacher, and his kind, sensible advice. 
These lessons of which no one could rob her, 
must be her guiding lamp. 

Nancy Lake arose promptly at five o’clock 
the next morning and when she had kindled a 
fire in the kitchen stove, called the boy who 
hastily dressed himself, built a blazing fire in 
the sitting-room, fed, watered and curried 
the horses, milked the cows and carried in 
wood to do all day. Lisita was called at six. 
After breakfast she arranged a lunch for her¬ 
self and the boy. About half past seven, two 
horses were saddled and stood in waiting by 
the fence, with a sack containing twenty ears 
of corn thrown over the back of the horse he 
was to ride. 

Lisita, with lunch basket made of colored 
straw, came hurrying out, stepped upon the 
upping block, sprang into the saddle and they 
were off at a good pace across the fields and 
through the lanes, to the little church at the 
Forks. When they reached the church, the 
boy led the horses away, and as Lisita ap¬ 
proached the building everything seemed 
dark her. The unkind letter she had received 
had turned the world from light to darkness. 
But by and by as the days wore on she became 


236 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

so interested in her pupils and work that she 
could see beyond the dark shadows to where 
the gleam of a beacon light shone brighter 
and brighter, and filled her heart with glad- 
nes. 

School went along nicely and the minutes 
and hours seemed to fly, so quickly did they 
pass. At recess, when all the children were 
out playing, she saw Tommy Hunter steal 
on tiptoe to one of the desks. She walked up 
to him, and said “What are you doing, 
Tommy?” 

“ Nothin’, only this is my slate pencil.” 

“ And why is it yours, Tommy?” 

“ ’Cause ’tis.” 

She said, “Tommy, if you earned money 
and bought a pencil it would be yours, or if 
someone gave it to you, it would be yours, 
but if you take it from someone else, or out 
of another’s desk, it would be stealing. And 
besides, you break one of the Commandments. 
Do you remember the one we repeated this 
morning?” 

“ Yes, mom. Ye mustn’t steal.” 

“Well, you see Tommy, that means that you 
must not take anything that does not belong 
to you, without the owner’s consent. Here is 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 237 

a pencil and slate that you may use, and after 
this when you want anything that is not 
yours, speak to me about it.” 

Tommy looked up into her eyes and felt 
that he had found a friend. She was acting 
in the role of teacher and parent, or so much 
so that she tried to do the work for pupils, 
which parents had left undone, saw in Tommy 
a possibility. If she could so influence his ac¬ 
tions as to cause him to do the right, and feel 
the responsibility of getting perfect lessons, a 
great character was in the making, and for 
this one pupil her work would not be in vain. 
Yet there were many others beside Tommy, 
who looked to her for counsel and aid. Then 
well might she afford to watch her actions 
and words if she were the model they must 
pattern after. “The great sculptor saw in 
the rejected piece of crude stone, a beautiful 
statue,” so in each child, moulded in the image 
of God, breathing the breath of life, there is a 
chance of unfoldment, a possibility or like¬ 
lihood. 

It was the custom at that time for the teach¬ 
er to stay one night with each family whose 
children attended the school and Lisita 
learned more about Tommy’s daily life and 


238 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

habits when she walked across the lonely way 
with him, two miles or more, to the little ill¬ 
smelling cabin that sheltered Tommy, his 
father, mother and three smaller children. 
'Cornbread, molasses and rabbit (was what 
they had for supper. The father had been 
well named Hunter, for he did little but hunt, 
while the mother was stout, good-natured and 
slow. Not a book or paper could be found in 
the house. Tommy was ordered off to get 
wood and water. Lisita’s heart went out to 
him as he kindled the fire, swept the hearth 
and tried to make her comfortable. She was 
so hungry next day she could hardly wait till 
noon. At noon, when “Wip ” came running 
up with a big bucket of dinner, they divided 
with Tommy and from that day on, Lisita and 
Tommy became good friends. So when school 
was out and corn-hoeing time came on, Tom¬ 
my made his home at Nancy Lake’s and help¬ 
ed to ho ecorn, at a small sum per week, and 
the true friendship and sympathy given by 
Lisita aided him in marking out a definite 
goal which he pursued diligently until he be¬ 
came a teacher and a very useful citizen. 


CHAPTER XXX 


ANOTHER STRANGER AT 
NANCY LAKE’S. 

The detective who had found comfortable 
lodgings with a congenial family whose hos¬ 
pitality was not excelled by that of the Coe- 
well’s, was in no hurry. He must do his work 
thoroughly and return to the agency across 
the sea, after every detail of the two myste¬ 
ries was solved. While he was a guest in that 
home which he had reached by miles of hard 
and slow travel on foot, many conversations 
took place around the fireside, to while away 
the long evenings. Curious questions and 
likewise strange answers sprang from the 
lips of the detective and his host, as they 
puffed their pipes of clay. 

“ How long have you lived here ? asked the 
detective. 

“ All my life, sir. My father settled in this 
valley about seventy years ago. He was a 
big land-holder and at his death the land went 

239 


240 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

to his sons. This is the home-place and I 
guess there are over three hundred acres of 
land in it.” 

“ Do you know a family by the name of 
Lake in this section?” asked the letective. 

“ Yes, sir. Old Nathan Lake lives about 
two miles down the creek, and a fine old man 
he is. He has never been a large landholder 
but he is honest to the core.” 

“ Did Mr. Lake have children?” 

“Yes, sir, he raised a good family of chil¬ 
dren, respectable and industrious. They are 
all married now. The youngest and prettiest 
girl he had took up with a feller from acrost 
the sea. Some said they was married and 
some said they wasn’t, but I know they was 
for I witnessed it at the Squires. They asked 
me to keep it a secret for a time but I never 
knew why and I dunno yit, unless it was on 
account of aristocratic relatives acrost the 
sea.” 

“ What sort of woman was this young Miss 
Lake?” asked the detective. 

“ Polly Lake, a s they called her, was come¬ 
ly and industrious. To my notion would have 
graced any man’s cabin. I’ve seen her work 
in the field beside her Pa, and then I’ve seen 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 241 

her scrub the floors and shelves of their cabin, 
till it fairly shone. She uster to carry her 
shoes nigh up to the meetin’ house and then 
put ’em on to save ’em after this young feller 
got so thick with her, and married her she 
wore better clothes and shoes. She uster to 
bleach the yarn and the linen to a snowy 
whiteness with wood ashes. She could spin 
and weave the finest cloth, but after he died 
she seemed gloomy and sad, so the distaff and 
spindle stood still.” 

“ What was this fellow’s name?” asked the 
detective. 

“Alexander. Will, I think, was his given 
name. He was tall, good looking and young. 
He taught school this side of Horn Creek and 
stayed at Nathan Lake’s. Not long after 
school was out he had a wrestle with a fellow 
and died a short time after.” 

“What can you tell me of this wrestling 
match?” asked the detective. 

“ Well, no one I guess, was ever able to 
get the straight of it. I think there was a lit¬ 
tle jealousy in it. A young man from Horn 
Creek did not like it because Alexander was 
said to be the best wrestler in the country. 
One evening this young man and his brother 


242 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

met Alexander in an out-of-the-way place, 
and bantered him for a wrestle. Not much 
could be learned about it and all Alexander 
would say was that they did not give him a 
square deal. The fellers from Horn Creek 
would not tell nothin’ so it soon all died 
down.” 

“Do you think Alexander really cared for 
this Polly Lake?” asked the detective. 

“ Yes, I’m sure of it, for he told me he ex¬ 
pected to build her the home she was worthy 
of, and then announce the news of their mar¬ 
riage, but he got lower and lower. When the 
baby was a few weeks old, he held it in his 
arms and named it ‘Lisita’. He got some bet¬ 
ter and went to a settler’s cabin up the creek, 
but never got back. He lies in the buryin’ 
ground near the schoolhouse where he taught. 

“ Did he speak of his wife and child before 
he died?” asked the detective. 

“ Yes, he called for me an’ I went. He give 
me a little wooden box and bag of money and 
said to have the baby’s picture taken when 
it was a year old, send one to his people acrost 
the waters to an address he gave, and put one 
in the box with what he had put in it, and give 
it to Polly. So I done as he said but Polly did 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


243 


not live more’n a year and a half after this.” 

“ What became of the precious box?” asked 
the detective. 

“ Well, I understood it went with the baby 
to Nancy Lake’s.” 

“ About how long ago was this?” asked the 
detective. 

“Well, a little over fifteen years ago, I 
reckon. He said somethin’ about her inherit¬ 
in’ a lot of money ’fore he died. It’s all died 
down in this country, an’ nothin’ more is ever 
said about it.” 

“ Do you think I could find a picture of this 
baby?” asked the detective. 

“ Why, sir! Why do you want the picture 
of a baby who is strange to you?” asked the 
old man. 

“ Oh, I’m unusually interested in your 
story, I guess, and just thought I would look 
at it if you had its picture,” answered the 
detective. 

“No picture could be found in this section 
unless at Nathan Lake’s,” answered the old 
man. 

The conversation here drifted to other sub¬ 
jects, and the detective felt he was gaining 
ground and must leave no stone unturned. So 


244 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

a few evenings later he visited the cabin of 
Nathan Lake. He posed as one who wanted 
pictures to enlarge and Nathan Lake beck¬ 
oned to his wife Lucinda. She searched the 
old oaken chest to its very bottom and drew 
forth a small picture not unlike a daguerreo¬ 
type clasped in a heavy frame. He took it 
to the light, unclasped it and found, as he 
held it to the one he had brought from across 
the sea, it was an exact type of it. To his 
great satisfaction, they did not allow him to 
take the picture away, lest it get lost. 

“ Where is this child now?” asked the detec¬ 
tive. 

“ With her aunt. The last we heard from 
there, she was missing.” 

The detective had spent more than two 
months in that neighborhood, for the wood¬ 
land paths and roads were blocked with snow 
and ice, and felt that he must be moving on. 
So early in March he turned his footsteps 
toward Nancy Lake’s. When he reached her 
cabin he found it a place of contentment. 
School had closed at the Forks that day and 
Lisita and “ Wip ” were talking over the 
events of its closing. Nancy Lake sat at the 
loom and threw the shuttle swiftly from side 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 245 

to side, which sped smoothly along, leaving 
the woof in its wake. Though they were wary 
of strangers, he assured them he was their 
friend. They watched him closely all the 
while. The next day he drew forth from his 
vest pocket, a baby’s picture and handed it to 
Nancy Lake and asked if she had one to match 
it. Her eyes went wide for she thought the 
picture she had in the chest was the only one 
in existence. 

“ I shall prove to you later that I’m a friend 
of justice,” said the detective. 

At this Nancy Lake called for a candle, 
raised the lid of the old chest and slowly laid 
out articles after article from their musty 
hiding-place. Finally she reached the very 
bottom but no small box or picture was there. 
In consternation she turned to the detective, 
and said “ That is my picture you have, but 
I don’t know how you got it, for I am the 
only one that places or replaces the things in 
that chest.” 

“ Madam, I assure you that I came into the 
possession of it honestly, though it was only 
loaned to me for a time, to accomplish a pur¬ 
pose. May be some unseen hand searched 
in your chest.” 


246 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

His words seemed to convey the truth and 
deeply convinced of it, her thoughts at once 
centered on the night when she thought she 
heard the heavy chest lid fall, arose and 
searched the house, but did not find or hear 
anything save the deep breathing of the 
stranger, who had stopped for a night’s lodg¬ 
ing. Then they told him the strange story 
of Lisita’s concealment in the cave far away, 
of her old teacher, of her return and the 
words of her captor, “I will come for you 
again when all is ready.” 

“When did he take the girl to the cave- 
house?” asked the detective. 

“Last June, and brought her back about 
the last of November, but he took good care 
to keep hid,” answered Nancy Lake. 

The detective, who now saw through the 
whole scheme, seemed very restless as he 
paced back and forth across the floor. The 
whole scheme of the treacherous villain, Rob¬ 
ert Thompson, was an open book to him, but 
he was uneasy now for fear some cruel death 
would come to the grand old man before he 
could reach him. He would not come for 
Lisita, the only heir, until all was ready for 
their flight across the sea, and to get ready 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 247 

for that flight meant death or concealment 
for the heirs of the gold and estates. He 
beckoned to Lisita who sat near, and as she 
came closer he said “ If you would look at the 
likeness of your own grandfather, come 
near.” 

Lisita stood like a statue for before her 
was the picture of her old teacher and friend. 
“ Grandfather!” she said softly. “ How can 
it be?” 

“ You are not Lisita Lake, but Lisita Alex¬ 
ander, the legitimate heir to William Henry 
Alexander’s fortune. This will be proven 
later.” 

Then he showed her the picture of Thomp¬ 
son, Joan and Jamie Campbell, and so natural 
did they look that she almost felt she was 
back in Cave Hollow. But if she should ever 
return to the cave, could she be so happy 
again?” 

“ Little girl, look here,” said the detective, 
and as he turned the lapel of his coat, Lisita 
saw a badge. 

“ If we can find two fast horses, I will run 
a race with you to Cave Hollow,” said the 
detective, and Lisita who was so anxious to 


248 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

rescue her Grandfather, said “ Let’s start in 
the morning.” 

In a moment, “Wip,” who had listened 
closely to the conversation, was off to a neigh¬ 
bor’s to borrow a horse, for the detective, for 
he expected to follow them on old kit. Nancy 
Lake busied herself getting things in readi¬ 
ness for an early breakfast, and a bountiful 
lunch that was to be packed in the saddle- 
pockets. She had some satisfaction in the 
thought that soon the wrongdoer would be 
brought to justice. 

The next morning at sunrise, Lisita and the 
man who wore a red handkerchief around his 
neck, were riding swiftly toward Cave Hol¬ 
low, a distance of one hundred and fifty miles, 
while the boy, who had gotten consent from 
Nancy Lake, to follow them, kept a few yards 
in the rear on old kit, for fear some evil fate 
might befall the girl. 

They were making good time and each hour 
brought them several miles nearer to Cave 
Hollow, where strange things were taking 
place. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


DOCTOR COEWELL PRACTICES 
MEDICINE. 

Victor Coewell stood on the deck of the 
boat and watched the waves as they receded 
in their escalloped path. He was getting tired 
of the slow motion of the boat, for he was 
anxious to reach his destination, so he could 
be with Dr. Brooks, the old teacher and friend 
who had led him so gently into the paths of 
the science that deals with diseases of the hu¬ 
man body. Constance, the daughter of his 
teacher, was his friend, but could never be 
more than a friend to him. He had promised 
to write her, and had kept his promise, but 
now that the only girl he had ever loved was 
lost to him, he must discard the idea of mar¬ 
riage for awhile. When he reached the sta¬ 
tion Dr. Brooks was there to meet him, 
though he was really on his way to make a 
call and stopped at the station, so that his 
young friend might accompany him to the 
bedside of his patient. 

249 


250 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

The doctor was polite, talkative and friend¬ 
ly as usual but Coewell could see a marked 
change in his looks. The hard work, sleep¬ 
less nights and mental strain was telling on 
the old doctor. Victor relieved him of many 
calls during the winter, and returned to Coe- 
hern early in the Spring. He never forgot 
the old doctor’s parting words as he present¬ 
ed him with a pair of saddle bags with “horn 
balances and china mortar: “Be true to your 
work and be a man in the profession.” 

When Victor returned home he found Sam¬ 
bo plowing the potato patch. His father and 
the fisherman were taking up the potatoes 
in the garden. Eph was raking and piling 
refuse to burn. His mother was spinning, 
Rachel’s daughter was doing the housework 
and Rachel was making soap. The lye had 
been drained from the ashes in the hopper 
and was placed in a large iron kettle hanging 
on a pole, held up by two forked stakes in the 
ground. As much soap-grease or refuse meat 
scraps was added to the lye, as it would “eat 
up” or dissolve, then it was boiled till done 
and stirred with a sassafras stick. And Aunt 
Rachel’s voice was heard above the shouts of 
Tom to his oxen, saying “Hurry up, yo’ lazy 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MTTJ, 251 

nigger—doan yo’ done let dat soap bile ober, 
or dead peoples’ clo’es will be washed wid it.” 

Smoke was issuing from the old smoke¬ 
house where the meat was being smoked with 
cobs, hickory and sassafras wood. The Coxes 
were still at Coewells and they expressed a 
desire to visit Nancy Lake before they re¬ 
turned to their home across the sea. Victor, 
who was anxious for a trip, and had it in 
mind to find a suitable location for himself, 
promised to take them soon. He seemed rest¬ 
less and dissatisfied. After this arrange¬ 
ment, he followed the narrow path that led 
to the picket fence on the river bank, for a 
walk on the shore of the river, and its placid 
and peaceful waters seemed to have soothed 
his vague unrest as he stood on the sand-bar 
with its numerous shells and pebbles, or tra¬ 
versed the narrow path to the overhanging 
rocks and trees, higher up on its banks. When 
he started homeward he was met by one of 
the servants who told him the fisherman’s 
daughter was very sick, and wanted him to 
come over. On hearing this he looked very 
grave, as he rode off to the fisherman’s hut. 
He knew Mollie had been suffering from pain 
in her right side but thought she was better. 


252 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

When he reached her bedside he stood with 
saddle pockets in his hand by the unconscious 
form of his friend and early playmate. He 
pronounced her illness inflammation of the 
stomach and used hot poultices, while no 
doubt she suffered from a ruptured appendix 
which had caused peritonitis. 

The old fisherman sat close by and watched 
with eager eyes, every movement of the stal¬ 
wart form and steel nerve of their physician 
and friend as he stood by the bedside of Mol- 
lie and battled with death. The stillness in 
the cottage was broken by a loud “ Hello!” 
outside. The fisherman went to the door and 
a voice in the night said “Is Dr. Coewell here? 
My wife is awful sick and I want him to come 
over on Bear Run as quick as he can. It is 
full ten miles from here, and tell him if he 
wants company on the trip, to come on, ’cause 
I got to go.” 

At this, Victor, who heard the conversation 
arose to go. He told the woman at Mollie’s 
bedside to watch her closely for she was grad¬ 
ually growing weaker all the time. He stood 
at the door with medicine case and hat in 
hand as he turned and gazed on the uncon¬ 
scious form of the fisherman’s daughter, who 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 253 

had been his lifelong playmate and friend, 
and then went out into the night. 

They crossed the field, following a path that 
led them to Coewell’s home. When they 
came up even with the house, Victor alighted 
quickly and walked up to the door and into 
the sitting room where a sweet faced woman 
sat at table, sewing. She raised her eyes and 
smiled as Victor entered, and the man out¬ 
side saw by the candle light, that look of con¬ 
fidence between mother and son, that tie of 
love and trust that binds true families togeth¬ 
er and he knew it was home indeed. 

“ Mother, call Rachel, and go over to the 
fisherman’s and stay awhile, for I fear Mol- 
lie is dying.” 

At this he closed the door, mounted his 
horse and rode quietly away by the side of 
the man in waiting, but in the stillness and 
beauty of that long moonlight ride, his 
thoughts were back in the fisherman’s hut. 
The loud barking of a dog gave evidence of 
their nearness to the home he was going to 
visit. They alighted and the man led the 
horses away to the stable, while Victor made 
friends with the dog and found his way into 
the house, where his patient lay on a home- 


254 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

made bedstead, with mattress of straw, while 
a bouncing baby boy lying near seemed to 
be trying to get its fist into its mouth. He 
smiled at this as the old lady by the bedside 
said: “We don’t need you now, Doc, but 
bein’s you’re here, you kin see if she’s adoin’ 
alright.” 

He looked at his watch—it was half past 
twelve—then felt her pulse, lowered her head, 
and said: “ Grandma, I’ll beat you yet. Where 
are this baby’s clothes, and a pan of hot 
water?” 

These were hastily brought and if ever a 
baby was washed and dressed in “ flannen ” 
and “linsey,” this one was. 

“ Now, what do you think of this, Grand¬ 
ma! ” said Dr. Coewell, as he held the newly 
dressed arrival out on his two hands. 

“ Well, I’ll declare, Doc, you’re as handy as 
a woman,” said “ Granny,” as she brought 
in the stilliards to weigh it. “ Ten pounds,” 
the doctor said, as he carefully raised the 
cover and placed it by its mother’s side. The 
mother was pleased to see the kindly interest 
which Dr. Coewell showed toward her and 
baby, and she felt safe under his trusty care. 
To the father, who was bending over a trun- 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 255 

die bed to see if the two other children were 
covered, he said “ This means another plate 
at the table, another chair by the fireside. 
‘ A man never has a family till he gets a house 
full of children’.” 

“That’s so, Doc, that’s so, and we never 
have one to spare, no difference how many.” 

They paid him three dollars and a half, his 
charges, and he started home about two hours 
before daylight. He reached home just as 
they were eating breakfast, but before he 
entered the dining room the smell of ham, 
eggs and coffee told him the meal was ready. 
He walked in and said—“ Mother, I have a 
new namesake.” 

Aunt Rachel, who was laying a plate for 
him, and pouring cream in a cup for his coffee, 
said “ Laws a massy! what do dey call him? 
Doc or Vick?” 

At this they smiled, and his mother told 
him that Mollie was dead. Strange to say, 
just as one soul left its habitation here below, 
another was ushered into this world. Life 
and Death—how strange. How fleeting is 
Life. Within a circle we scarcely realize it 
until the breathing has ceased and one is gone, 
never to return again to the wandering vicisi- 


256 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

tudes of this earthly pilgrimage. Otherwise 
at a birth, to the circle is added one, and 
when we look around again a new life has 
taken up its abode on this earth. 

Victor went upstairs to bed and slept until 
noon, when he arose and dressed himself and 
went to the barn shed where his father and 
some other men, were making a pine coffin, 
lining and covering it with black cloth. He 
walked to where the old fisherman was stand¬ 
ing and told him he must come to live with 
them ,since he was left alone. 

Along in the evening a dozen or more neigh- 
ors were coming from various directions to 
the fisherman’s hut so they might assist in 
the singing, and be company in the home that 
Death had visited, and all through the long 
hours of the night, songs floated out from the 
hut on the river bank and died away on the 
restless breeze. 

Early the next morning the funeral proces¬ 
sion started on the road leading to the old 
mill and when they arrived at Millgrove, peo¬ 
ple could be seen coming from all directions 
on horseback. After a long funeral sermon 
by Hoden Adams (who was an exhorter at 
that time) and the song, beginning— 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 257 

Oh, come, come with me 
To the old Churchyard 
For I well know the path 
Through the soft, greensward,” 

they laid Mollie to rest by the side of her 
mother, where the glory of the sunset linger¬ 
ed at eventide, where the aeolian murmur- 
ings of the wind in the pines floated o’er her, 
ever and ever throughout quiet, dreamless 
sleep, where the wild flowers grew in pro¬ 
fusion and where the myrtle and the ivy in¬ 
termingled to weave a covering of living 
green for her narrow bed: where the wander¬ 
ing nightbird sought shelter in the branches 
of the pines to sing its evening song, and 
where glad nature ever whispered of the true 
and the living God. 

Some of the people who were at the bury¬ 
ing, went home with others for supper, which 
made them late getting home. As they passed 
the old mill, some said they heard something 
that sounded like a tame pigeon—others said 
it sounded like a woman or a child crying. At 
least they all agreed that the low, weird 
sound was vey strange. 


/ 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


A VOYAGE ACROSS THE SEA. 

During the first days of March, great pre¬ 
parations were made in Cave Hollow, for the 
return across the sea. The school that had 
been kept for the past three months, would 
close on the sixth, and only a very few schol¬ 
ars attended at its close. Robert Thompson 
had at last earned a little money, and lived 
above suspicion. No one visited Cave Hollow 
often, since the old man and his daughter had 
left so suddenly, as the neighbors thought, 
for they did not know he was still there, so 
closely was he guarded. The evening before 
the close of school, everything was in readi¬ 
ness for their trip. Robert Thompson con¬ 
fronted William Alexander, and said “ Old 
man, your time is about up, and you’d better 
get ready to hand in your check, for the po¬ 
tion is brewing that makes a man keep silent 
forever on this earth.” 

The old man realized now, as he fastened 

259 


260 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

him in the cave and bolted the door, that 
there was nothing in store for him but death. 
He lit a candle and explored the hidden pass¬ 
ageways of the cave, leading in various di¬ 
rections, but no outlet could be found. He 
longed to see his home across the sea again, 
but his longings were in vain. Exhausted 
and weary he wrapped a bear-skin about him, 
and with his coat for a pillow, fell into a peace¬ 
ful sleep. In his dreams his youth had re¬ 
turned, and he was back in the old mansion 
across the sea—then again he was walking in 
their quiet grounds with his wife by his side, 
holding his son William in her arms, but his 
dreams came to an end abruptly and he open¬ 
ed his eyes to see Robert Thompson, who was 
rudely pulling his arm. 

“ Come on, old man. Sign these papers. 
This is the last favor I ask of you, for I never 
expect to see you alive again.” And the truth 
is, he never did. The old man would not sign 
the papers and Thompson shoved him down 
on the bear-skin, bound and gaged him and 
after signing the papers himself, so that no 
one would have guessed it was any one’s sig¬ 
nature only Mr. Alexander’s he went on to 
Millgrove. He carried a lunch in one hand, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MH.L 261 

and a mattock in the other. When he had 
gone about one hundred yards from the cave 
he turned from the path into a dense thicket, 
where he marked off a place and began to 
dig a pit. About nine o’clock he went on to 
the school house, opened school, received the 
balance due him on tuition that the parents 
had sent him by their children, dismissed, ate 
his lunch, closed the school house and return¬ 
ed to finish the pit. 

Joan Campbell had prepared the poison 
drink from the deadly nightshade, a Euro¬ 
pean plant, a species of which grows in Ameri¬ 
ca. There was not more than a small half 
glass of it, but less than that would have done 
the work. With glass in hand she was un¬ 
bolting the cave door when she heard the 
sound of hoof beats coming up the path. To 
her surprise there stood Lisita and a strange 
man. Joan Campbell looked guilty but of¬ 
fered no more resistance than a child when 
the detective took the glass from her hand, 
poured its contents into a bottle and put it in 
his hip pocket. She seemed to be seized with 
sudden fear, or insanity, turned and fled 
screaming to the house above the cave. Lisita 
unbolted the cave door and stood before the 


262 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

old man. They cut the ropes that bound him, 
and removed the gag, and the old gentleman 
could hardly believe his eyes as Lisita drew 
nearer, threw her arms about his neck, and 
said, “ Grandfather! I do not call you this 
out of respect for older people, but you really 
are my grandfather.” 

“ How so, little one? I had always thought 
you resembled my people in actions, manner 
and looks, but never expected to see you 
again.” 

“Poor father is dead,” said Lisita. 

Then William Alexander knew that the tie 
that had bound him to this country, was sev¬ 
ered by the death of his son—he could do no 
more than be a father to the orphan girl. A 
sudden thought filled his mind, and his eyes 
glowed with a light she had never seen before. 

“You shall be amply rewarded for this,” 
said he, to the detective who had shown his 
badge. 

“ Will you fly with me, little one, far away, 
where there is ample room and plenty in 
store?” 

“ Anywhere, Grandfather, that you wish to 
go,” answered Lisita. 

Lisita beckoned to “ Wip” who had arrived 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MTT.T, 263 

on old Kit, and told him to hitch the ponies 
to the covered wagon, as the old man had bid 
her do. They had been purchased with his 
money and belonged to him. The old man 
knew where they had placed the gold and 
valuables, together with the small wooden 
box, preparatory to their departure after 
they should have securely hidden his dead 
body. He would not touch the so-called wine, 
which had been drugged, and Joan Campbell 
had been instructed to pour this drink down 
his throat while he was bound and gagged, 
and lying on his back. 

With the agility of a mouse, William Alex¬ 
ander searched for the valuables, placed them 
in a large leather wallet, took the old violin 
from its peg on the wall, placed it in the case, 
handed it to Iisita, who had made him a cup 
of tea. He drank the tea, with one look at 
the old cedar chest, closed the cave door and 
took his seat by Lisita in the covered wagon, 
and they were off down the hollow, forded 
the river and left the Indian cave and the old 
mill far behind. The detective, who had 
heard their plans, told them he would follow 
later. Just now he feared Robert Thompson 
might get wind of their arrival, and he fol- 


264 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


lowed the path leading in the direction of 
Millgrove. All at once he stopped short, for 
he was sure he heard a mattock strike a rock, 
as though someone were digging in the 
ground. He first thought it might be some¬ 
one digging ginsing, snake-root, rattle root, 
or some other herbs that were used at that 
time for medicine, but he must not suppose 
things! So far he had left no stone unturned, 
and would not now. So he crept cautiously in 
the direction of the sound, quietly advancing 
through the thick underbrush and finally 
came to a little opening where he could see 
and not be seen. He saw a man standing 
waist deep in a pit, and still digging deeper. 
The digger stopped and looked in every di¬ 
rection, as though he were afraid someone 
might see through the dense thicket, wiped 
the sweat from his face, climbed out of the 
pit, put on his coat, took up the mattock and 
started toward the path in the hollow. When 
he reached the path in the hollow, the detec¬ 
tive who now had a better view of the “would 
be teacher” could see that his clothes were 
clinging to him with moisture which he did 
not then clearly understand, but learned 
later that it was the result of a ducking given 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 265 

him by the pupils at the mill pond on refusing 
to treat, on the last day of school. After he 
was far enough away, the detective went on 
to the pit, which was about six feet long and 
two feet wide. A shovel lay on the pile of 
dirt he had thrown out. “ By jove! a fine 
resting place for a wealthy poet and scholar,” 
said the detective, in a whisper. Only one 
minute had elapsed since the grave digger 
had departed, and so anxious was the detec¬ 
tive to watch his every movement, that he 
had scarcely gone twenty yards on the path 
leading to the cave, when a stealthy figure 
followed in his footsteps. When Thompson 
reached the cave the heavy door was wide 
open. He dropped his mattock on the ground 
and entered. In a moment he ran out and 
on toward the house, muttering wicked 
oaths, and when he reached the house he 
found no one except Joan Campbell who 
was dying from the draught she had so 
carefully prepared for another. So intent 
on escape was he, as he ran back to the 
cave, that he failed to see the boy and an 
officer of the law, standing behind a clump 
of trees, with their horses grazing close by. 
When he re-entered the cave, the wily detec- 


266 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

tive who had secreted himself behind the 
door, while Robert Thompson was viewing 
the form of Joan Campbell, stepped inside 
and found him kneeling in front of the old 
chest, throwing things in every direction. He 
was looking for something he could not find! 
The detective walked up, put his hand on 
Thompson’s shoulder, who looked up aston¬ 
ished to see a badge on the lapel of a coat 
worn by a man he had met before. He jump¬ 
ed to his feet and showed fight, but the detec¬ 
tive, who was too quick for him, backed a 
little, drew a revolver from his pocket and 
leveled it at him. Robert Thompson saw the 
game was up, and threw up his hands. 

The officer of the law, who was standing 
outside, had witnessed it all, and advanced 
and put handcuffs on Thompson. The detec¬ 
tive searched the chest to see if all valuable 
papers had been secured. Jamie Campbell 
who had been left on guard that day, forgot 
his mission and followed the ridges far away 
from the cave so that he might hear the loud 
yelping of the deerhound, who was in hot pur¬ 
suit after a deer or a fox. When he returned 
in the evening, the men were returning from 
the thicket, where they had laid Joan Camp- 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 267 

bell in the pit, while Robert Thompson, bound 
and handcuffed, lay in the cave, with the door 
securely bolted. When Jamie heard the story 
he was deeply grieved and said, “ Granny 
wouldn’t ’a done it if he hadn’t ’a made her. 
I’ll stay and take care of the cow and pigs. Ole 
Tray and me aint afraid, are we Tray?” as he 
patted the large deerhound on the head. 

The boy builded fires and helped them pre¬ 
pare supper. Robert Thompson was brought 
up to the house, given refreshment, placed in 
the middle of the floor, on a blanket and more 
wood was placed on the fire, the door securely 
bolted and the men went to bed and fell into 
a sound sleep. Toward morning the detective 
was aroused by a noise and jumped out of 
bed just in time to see Robert Thompson jump 
from the window and disappear in the dark¬ 
ness. The detective and constable jumped 
into their clothes, ran to the stable, found 
one of the horses gone, and set out on the 
other in hot pursuit. 

“ He has got a few minutes start on us but 
I think we can overtake him,” said the detec¬ 
tive. 

“ If I get my clutches on him again, I’ll see 


268 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

that he don’t git loose again,” said the con¬ 
stable. 

They took the most direct way to Clarks¬ 
burg. Robert Thompson had led one of the 
horses a little way from the stable and stood 
still till he heard the sound of the hoofbeats 
of their horse grow fainter and fainter, and 
could be heard no more. He hitched the horse, 
went in and got his reakfast, then set out for 
Nancy Lake’s. He did not know who had se¬ 
creted the old man but he hoped to find Lisita 
and flee with her, where no one would find 
them. 

When the detective reached Clarksburg he 
found that one passenger had bought a ticket 
for New York, but all he could learn was that 
it was a man, and the train had gone a few 
hours before. They talked it over and decid¬ 
ed to board the next train going East. When 
they arrived at New York they found at the 
pier that an old man and a girl had taken 
passage on a ship bound for England, that 
morning. They watched every vessel that 
sailed so closely for a few days, that they 
knew the name of every one who took pas¬ 
sage, and their destination. 

Next morning a feeble looking, gray haired 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 269 

man, walking with a cane, was making his 
way to the docks. The ship was about to sail 
out of the harbor, when the detective saw the 
old-looking man walk briskly up the gang¬ 
plank. The detective was the next to reach the 
vessel, followed by the constable. The detec¬ 
tive overtook him, placed his hand on his 
shoulder, and when he turned a pistol was 
pointed at him. The constable jerked off his 
wig, placed handcuffs on him and he was safe¬ 
ly locked in a room by the ship’s officer. 

“ I’ll leave him in your hands,” said the 
constable, as he jumped ashore, and the vessel 
slowly steamed out of the harbor. 

Robert Thompson had not found Lisita at 
Nancy Lake’s, as he expected to, after his 
long ride, so he must return to England 
alone. He did not know where the old man 
was, but he would return and take charge of 
the estate, which he knew so well—but things 
took a decided turn a minute after he boarded 
the vessel. 

“ Wip ” rode behind, taking turn about on 
each horse until they came within a few miles 
of Clarksburg. Here they gave him some 
money and left him with the horses which 
he was to return to Nancy Lake. He reached 


270 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

home the next evening and handed a note to 
Nancy Lake, from Lisita, which he had guard¬ 
ed with care all through the journey. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 


A SECRET UNFOLDED. 

It was sugar-making time at Coehern. Vic¬ 
tor Coewell was down by the river where a 
dozen or more maple trees stood high up on its 
bank. Large wooden buckets and jars were 
sitting around on the ground near the body 
of the tree, to catch the “ sugar-water ” as it 
dripped from the long spiles, one end of which 
had been inserted in the round holes bored 
in the tree by an auger. Higher up on the 
bank where the meadow skirted the river 
bank, two large iron kettles filled with sap, 
were hanging from a pole, held up by two 
stakes in the ground. A fire was kept burn¬ 
ing under the kettles, and as the water boiled 
down, more was collected from the buckets 
under the maple trees and added to that of 
the kettles. Kegs of molasses and great quan¬ 
tities of sugar were made each spring. 

The fisherman, who stayed most of his time 
now at Coewell’s, was assisting them in sugar- 

271 


272 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 


making. Victor walked up to where he was 
standing by the seething, foaming kettles, 
whose contents had reached boiling point, by 
the art of an experienced hand in building 
fires and placing the wood so the flames 
burned all around the kettles, and said “ Un¬ 
cle Jim, I am not satisfied here any more, and 
since I am able to practice medicine, I feel 
that I must find a suitable location.” 

“ Wall, I spose that’s so, but I hate to lose 
ye, boy. I’ve knowed ye since ye wuz a baby, 
and it’ll seem lonesome wi’out ye but the 
world is wide, and I hope ye’ll find as good 
a neighborhood as the one ye wuz raised in, 
’fore ye locate for sure,” answered the fish¬ 
erman. 

With this he left the fisherman and walked 
through the meadow toward the house, whist¬ 
ling a tune as he followed the path. He went 
in the house and had a talk with the Coxes 
who had decided to return to their home 
across the sea after a visit to Nancy Lake, 
where the brother had directed them to go. 
If they could not learn anything there, in re¬ 
gard to their brother-in-law, they would re¬ 
turn home. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 273 

“ How would it suit you to start this after¬ 
noon?, asked Victor. 

“ The best in the world, sir,” answered Mr. 
Cox. 

An early dinner was served and Roanne 
Coewell told them they must come back with 
Victor and eat some of the maple syrup and 
sugar. So they decided to leave everything 
except what they would need on the trip. 
About half past eleven they drove out of 
sight in the lane by the picket fence, along 
the river. 

After Lisita and the detective set out on 
their journey to Cave Hollow, with the boy 
following close behind, Nancy Lake put the 
cabin in order and then took her seat at the 
loom that almost filled one side of the cabin. 
She threw the shuttle swiftly so that she 
might finish the beautiful woolen cloth that 
had been in the loom for some time. The 
snowy white yarn had been dyed with indigo, 
and the cloth woven out of it was a deep or 
dark shade of blue. This cloth was for Li- 
sita’s dress for early Spring, after which she 
would change to a linen for the warmer days. 
Nancy Lake sat at the loom till four o’clock 
in the afternoon when she began to feel 


274 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


hungry. She threw more wood on the fire 
and while it was burning into coals, she mixed 
dough for a sweet pone of bread. She set 
the oven on the hearth, placed coals of fire 
under it, and when the grease with which she 
had saturated the inside of the oven, began 
to hiss, she pourned in the dough, put on the 
lid, placed hot coals on top of it and more 
coals underneath the oven. Then she went 
to the spring to get fresh water and when 
she returned the scent of the sweet pone 
filled the little cabin. Just as she was spread¬ 
ing the cloth, she looked through the tiny 
window of her kitchen and saw a handsome 
young man and an elderly couple drive up in 
a spring wagon. She walked to the door-way 
and stood, ready to give directions to the 
people drawing near, who must have lost 
their way for they were all strangers to her. 
They stopped a little way from the gate and 
the young man on the front seat gave the 
reins to the elderly man, alighted and walked 
to the door. He raised his hat and told her 
his name was Coewell. 

“ Yes, I have heard Lisita speak of the Coe- 
wells.” 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 275 

At the name Lisita, Coewell smiled and 
asked who Lisita was. 

“She’s a girl I raised—my sister’s girl. 
But come in, all of you. I will be glad to have 
company, since they are all gone.” 

Coewell wondered as he went back to the 
wagon, who Nancy Lake meant when she said 
“ they,” but this Lisita could not be the one 
he knew for she had told him in her letters 
she was going to live with her people in Penn¬ 
sylvania. When he reached the wagon, he 
climbed into the seat, drove through the big 
gate into the stable lot, helped the Coxes 
alight, preceded them to the door in which 
Nancy Lake was standing, and introduced 
them to her. When they went in and found 
seats he asked Nancy Lake where he should 
put the horses. 

“ Just unhitch and put them in the stable. 
You will find hay in the loft and corn in the 
crib,” answered Nancy Lake. 

She then waited on the Coxes who were al¬ 
ready exchanging pleasant remarks about 
how good the sweet pone smelled. Then she 
told them that her boy and girl had left early 
that morning, how she had worked until she 


276 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

felt hungry, and as she was alone had not 
built a fire in the kitchen stove. 

“No bread ever was so good, madam, as 
that which is baked in an oven,” said Mr. Cox. 

By this time Victor had returned from put¬ 
ting the horses away. Seeing Nancy Lake 
was alone, he asked if he could assist her in 
doing th echores after supper. 

“ The boy always gets the wood and water 
when he is here. He filled the box last night, 
but we may need a little more,” said she. 

Victor went to the spring and brought two 
buckets of water, then replenished the wood- 
box. Nancy liked the appearance of the 
handsome, industrious fellow and wished Li- 
sita was at home. After supper they all sat 
around the fire. Coewell asked the Coxes 
how they were feeling after their long drive. 

“ Fine — never felt better,” replied Mr. 
Cox, “ though I guess Mrs. Cox is rather 
tired.” 

“ Do you know a good location for a doc¬ 
tor?” asked Coewell, addressing Nancy Lake. 

“I expect Troy would be a good place. It 
is three or four miles from here. Are you a 
doctor?” 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 277 

“ That’s my profession, but somehow I can’t 
find a location to suit me.” 

Nancy Lake was indeed proud to have 
such noble guests, and sincerely wished her 
little girl was there to meet them. Coewell 
was looking steadily toward the mantel where 
his eyes rested on a picture. He took it down 
and looked long and ardently at the fac 
simile of the brown eyed maiden whom he 
had once chosen for his wife. Then his 
thoughts flew back to Cave Hollow and the 
joyous days of the log-rolling, house-raising 
and the husking-bee, which were only shad¬ 
ows now. 

“ Whose picture is this?” asked Coewell. 

Then Nancy Lake took the picture from 
his hand, though he seemed reluctant to give 
it up, and said — “ It is Lisita, my niece. She 
had it taken last month. She always went by 
the name of Lake, but her right name is Alex¬ 
ander.” Then she told them the strange 
story of Lisita’s disappearance, her return, 
of the school she had taught, of the detective, 
his strange story, and how they were on their 
way to Cave Hollow. Coewell listened intent¬ 
ly but felt like one in a dream. 


278 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

“ Father did not sell the land till in the 
Fall,” said Coewell. 

“ Yes, but they lived in a cave for two or 
three months,” said Nancy Lake. 

“Well, I’ll declare! Lisita’s teacher then, 
is my brother-in-law,” said Mr. Cox. 

“Oh, can it be true?” asked Mrs. Cox. 

Coewell understood the whole situation, 
straightened himself to his six feet of height, 
and said “ I am going to start for Cave Hol¬ 
low early in the morning.” 

After they went to bed, Nancy Lake took a 
candle, went to the hen-house, selected two 
nice fowls, dressed and roasted them before 
she went to bed. About four o’clock she heard 
someone moving about the house. She dressed 
and came out to find a blazing fire on the 
hearth and the tea kettle boiling on the stove. 
This had been done by Coewell who wished 
that he too, might be an adopted son of Nancy 
Lake. In an hour or two all was ready, with 
lunch packed for their trip to Cave Hollow, 
and by good daylight they were two miles on 
the road. 

“I fear you are driving a little fast, Doc¬ 
tor,” said Mr. Cox. 

Coewell looked back and saw Mrs. Cox 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 279 

with a tight grip on her husband’s arm. He 
smiled at this and slackened their pace some, 
but still made good time. 

“ To think that rascal would conceal Will, 
to get his fortune,” said Mr. Cox to his wife. 

“ Yes, and no doubt he will take Will’s life. 

I heard he shot a man in a gambling den just 
before he disappeared so suddenly from Eng¬ 
land,” answered Mrs. Cox. 

“ I am afraid some harm will come to the 
girl before we can reach her,” said Coewell. 

They stopped with Nancy Lake’s brother, 
as she had told them to do, if they reached 
there before dark. About an hour before 
dusk he consulted the map he carried and 
guessed they must be close to the place to 
which she directed them. Another half hour’s 
drive brought them to a house like Nancy 
Lake had described as the home of her 
brother. He told them it was eighty-five 
miles from his place to Nancy Lake’s. He 
also told them that a man, young lady and a 
boy had stayed there the night before and left 
before sunrise, that morning. 

“ Can we get an early start in the morn¬ 
ing?” asked Coewell. 


280 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

“ Yes, sir. As early as you please,” answer¬ 
ed the host. 

Coewell sincerely wished he might have 
been a day earlier but with this eighty-five 
miles the first day, they could easily reach 
their destination the next day before dark. 
The next morning everything was in readi¬ 
ness and they moved along at a good pace all 
day, and more than an hour before dark they 
came in sight of the old mill. When they had 
passed it, Victor turned the horses into the 
narrow road that had been nothing more 
than a footpath, a few months before. As he 
drove along, pleasant memories returned, and 
his hopes were high in anticipation of seeing 
the only girl he had ever loved, in a few min¬ 
utes, for he did not doubt for a moment that 
she was there. When they drove up to the 
house in Cave Hollow, stillness reigned over 
all — a stillness that filled him with fear. He 
alighted, threw the reigns to Mr. Cox, ran 
up to the house and knocked on the door, but 
no one answered. He could see a fire blazing 
on the hearth then went down to the cave 
and after peering through its dark recesses, 
he discovered a letter and on looking at it, he 
saw it was from Lisita to him. He walked 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 281 

down the narrow path that led to Millgrove, 
and when he had gone a little way, he saw 
Jamie Campbell coming out of the bushes. On 
seeing Coewell, he said “ Oh, sir, come and see 
poor Granny’s grave.” Not knowing what 
the boy meant, Victor followed him till they 
came to a long narrow mound, covered with 
moss. “I just covered it with this purty 
moss. She’ll be all right, sir, for these nice 
trees’ll make a shade and shelter her from 
the rain, and all the pretty flowers’ll bloom 
for her, and the wind in the tree-tops’ll sing 
for her, and the squirrels’ll play around. 
Granny wouldn’t ’a done it if he hadn’t made 
her.” 

Coewell, who was touched by the boy’s 
words, had heard a part of the story and 
asked what had become of the rest of them. 

“ The old man and the girl left in the cov¬ 
ered wagon. Think they was going acrost 
the sea — and a man put handcuffs on Uncle, 
but he got away and they’re after him.” 

“ Put your fire out and go home with us,” 
said Coewell. Filled with fear lest the villain 
would overtake the old man and Lisita, he 
told the rest of the story to the Coxes on their 
way home from Cave Hollow. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 


IN A FOREIGN LAND. 

It was not noon when Lisita and her grand¬ 
father left Cave Hollow, seated comfortably 
in the covered wagon, drawn by the two 
swift ponies, and such good time did they 
make that they reached Clarksburg the next 
evening in time to dispose of their wagon and 
ponies before the east bound train arrived. 
They reached New York and took passage 
on the first ship that sailed for England, and 
were many miles out at sea when the detec¬ 
tive reached New York in pursuit of Robert 
Thompson. The town, with its many houses, 
the ships and the great body of water they 
sailed upon, that always looked higher in the 
distance, seemed a beautiful vision to Lisita. 

Her grandfather was ever by her side, tell¬ 
ing her stories of the sea, of the monsters 
that are said to lie in its hidden depths, of the 
icebergs that break off and slide away from 
the mighty glaciers in the North, and travel 

283 


284 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

in the ship’s path, three-fourths under water 
all along the northern route, and of God who 
holds the sea and its hidden creatures in the 
hollow of His hand. 

“ Oh, how beautiful,” said Lisita, as she 
saw a vessel in the distance that looked like 
a tiny white speck in the ocean. 

“ Yes, it is beautiful. The sea is calm now, 
a mighty sheet of water spreading away for 
miles in every direction, though it looks quite 
different in a storm, when the great billows 
roll so high and meet above the vessel and 
dash their foam on its deck, like it did on my 
first voyage,” answered her grandfather. 

“ How long will it take us to cross?” asked 
Lisita. 

“ Well, it depends on the sea. If it is calm 
we can make the voyage in about four weeks. 
If the sea is rough, it will take longer.” 

They had a wonderful voyage and reached 
London early in April. William Alexander 
hired a hansom and they were driven to his 
old home. He alighted and led Lisita through 
the beautiful grounds, up the gravel walks 
to the old mansion. Though the flowers and 
grounds had been neglected, they still looked 
beautiful. The house had been locked up and 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


285 


deserted, but he still carried a key in his 
pocket, which he had carried through all his 
mysterious journey. He unlocked the doors, 
opened the shutters, threw up the windows, 
built a fire in the dining-room and a room up 
stairs, which he assigned to Lisita. 

“ The whole house is yours, little one, but 
this room is yours individually,” said her 
grandfather. 

Lisita was left alone for a time, while her 
grandfather walked across to where one ten¬ 
ant was still occupying a house on his 
grounds. He sent him in quest of servants 
and tenants with the result that in two weeks’ 
time, the house and grounds were put in 
order, and his own horses and livery were 
in the stables for use. She looked around 
from room to room and could hardly find her 
way in the large old house, so very unlike the 
cabin in which she was reared. She stopped 
before a Coat of Arms emblazoned on the 
wall, and then before a beautiful picture of 
the Madonno which hung on the wall, and 
was an imitation of the one drawn by 
Raphael. Then she paused by the picture of 
a motherly-looking, slender woman, close by 
a young man who was handsome and tall. 


286 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

Just then her grandfather who had returned 
from his walk across the grounds to secure 
help, touched her on the shoulder and said, 
“That is your grandmother when she was 
young, and your father when he was twenty- 
one, just before he left England.” 

As she gazed on the picture, it seemed al¬ 
most that they were speaking to her, and she 
wished they might be with her now. The 
tenant had brought supplies, and Lisita had 
prepared supper and was putting the house 
in order when two servants arrived. In a few 
days a dressmaker arrived, bringing some 
beautiful cloth to make a dress and riding 
suit, and some fine pink goods and lace to 
make an evening gown for Lisita. She was 
given a horse for her own use, and so well 
could she ride that she scoured the country 
for miles around and she thought if her Aunt 
Nancy knew it she would say Lisita was 
“ idling all of her time away.” 

The people in London circles were much 
interested in an account they had seen in the 
papers of William Henry Alexander, who had 
suddenly disappeared from his home and 
estates in England almost two years ago, 
and had recently returned from America, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 287 

bringing with him a young and beautiful 
granddaughter. After some persuasion by 
his friends, the old gentleman decided to have 
a ball or social early in May, so that his grand¬ 
daughter might become acquainted with some 
of the lords and ladies of the land. 

Doctor Coewell, on reaching home, remem¬ 
bered the letter he had accidently found in 
the darkest corner of the cave, in a crevice 
of rock. It was not in an envelope but 
seemed destined to reach the owner after its 
long concealment. Sambo took care of the 
horses and Victor sat down on a log in the 
woodyard to find the meaning of the letter. 
He was not surprised now to know that 
through treachery and concealment he had 
been robbed of much happiness, since he had 
learned the true mission of the one who had 
falsely planted himself in their neighborhood 
as a teacher and neighbor. But the great 
message the letter carried to him was that 
she whom he loved, was true to him and loved 
none other. 

“ I must find her,” thought he, as his nimble 
steps led him to the house. A pleasant smile 
lit up his countenance as he greeted his moth¬ 
er and the rest, then asked the Coxes in re- 


288 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

gard to William Alexander’s home. After 
a long conversation he announced his inten¬ 
tion to cross the ocean. 

“ Well, sir, how would you like to sail with 
us? We shall not tarry longer than tomor¬ 
row morning. Our stay with you has been a 
pleasant one, and your unbounded hospitality 
cannot be surpassed the world over,” said Mr. 
Cox. 

“I am glad you have enjoyed your stay 
with us, and we have derived a lot of pleasure 
and satisfaction from your company,” an¬ 
swered Cornelius Coewell. 

“ That sugar you make here is certainly 
fine and white,” said Mr. Cox. 

Then Roanne Coewell told them how at 
“boiling off” time, she added the beaten 
whites of eggs to make it clear. 

“ I feel that my mission in this country is 
completed now, except at New York. I have 
found my brother, and my brother-in-law has 
been found, and to think he was so near us 
all the time. I guess I aided some in the 
search when I informed the detective at the 
tavern about the land deal you made to a fam¬ 
ily last Fall,” said Mr. Cox. 

Victor told them of the letter which had 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MTT.T, 289 

been concealed, and his fears lest some harm 
would come to Lisita and her grandfather 
before the villain could be caught. 

“ Doctor, I invite you as a guest, to accom¬ 
pany us across the sea. It will give you a 
better knowledge of the world you live in, 
and a little recreation before you settle down 
to practice medicine,” said Mr. Cox. 

“ Thank you, sir, I will accept your invita¬ 
tion, if Mother is willing,” answered Victor. 

His mother was not quick to reply, for she 
thought of the long days and nights he would 
be out of sight of land on the great sea, where 
many had found a watery grave. But then 
she thought of the happiness the trip would 
give her son, and when their eyes met he 
knew he had won. She calmly nodded assent, 
and they started for Parkersburg the next 
morning. 

“Laws a massy! I’se glad dem Coxes am 
departed fo’ de odder sho’ but long befo dey 
arribes dey am most certain to be sanken 
where its miles upon miles deep. An' now 
dem aigs dat had to be beaten in a glass 
mornin’, noon and night, can be tucked to de 
market,” said Aunt Rachel. 

Sambo took the folks to Elizabeth in a 


290 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

spring wagon, where they took a boat for 
Parkersburg. There they boarded a train 
for the East. Coewell was proud to live in a 
State where they were afforded such splendid 
means of travel, though the railroad from 
Grafton to Parkersburg had only been oper¬ 
ating since 1857, a little over three years be¬ 
fore. Their trip to New York was a pleasant 
one, and they spent a few days there, for Mr. 
Cox was looking after the Peter Noe Eestate 
but found it had been given over to P. P. Mast 
of New Jersey, who died very suddenly a few 
years later. 

They were on the water a little over a 
month. The sea was rough but the vessel sail¬ 
ed slowly up the Thames River about the last 
of April and they were driven from the har¬ 
bor to the home of Mr. Cox, which was about 
sixty miles from the Estates of William 
Henry Alexander. While Dr. Coewell was a 
guest at Mr. Cox’s, they visited Ireland, Scot¬ 
land and Wales. He loved the green valleys 
of Scotland, and the blue hills of Ireland, but 
again he thought of his own native state, 
its sturdy forest trees that had grown for 
centuries, of its valleys, rivers, and the oil 
that had just been discovered that year at 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 291 

Rathbone. Early the next Spring thousands 
of people were settling there, to have a part 
in the great industry. This is where the town 
of Burning Springs now stands, taking its 
name from two springs, one about a quarter 
of a mile and one a mile from the mouth of 
a stream that divided the village and was 
called by the same name. These springs in 
which the gas seepages bubbled up were sup¬ 
posed to have been first discovered and lit by 
the Indians over which they roasted strips of 
venison while their war-hoop echoed from hill 
to hill, and the oil well that was drilled in in 
1860 is still producing oil at this time, the be¬ 
ginning of the third decade of the twentieth 
century. 

Mr. Cox picked up a London paper on their 
trip and called Dr. Coewell’s attention to one 
of its pages that contained a sketch of Will¬ 
iam Alexander’s return to England, with his 
granddaughter, announcing that a ball would 
be held there the twentieth of May. 

“ Only two weeks from now, and we must 
all go,” said Mr. Cox. 

“ I do not feel that I could go without an 
invitation,” said Dr. Coewell. 

“ Oh, yes, you can go as my guest, Will 


292 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


would ask us in a minute if he knew we were 
back,” said Mr. Cox. 

Dr. Coewell decided to go for then he 
would have an opportunity to see Lisita and 
tell her of the letter he found in the cave, and 
many other things. 

They learned a few days later that the de¬ 
tective had arrived with Robert Thompson 
and placed him in jail in London to await his 
trial for the murder of Patrick O’Neil in a 
gambling den, just before his disappearance 
from England, and for concealment of and 
attempted murder of William Henry Alex¬ 
ander. The whole story was out and people 
were anxiously awaiting the trial and its out¬ 
come. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 


A REST ON THE MILLROCK. 

On the evening of the ball, in old England, 
everything was in readiness for the guests. 
Candles were sending forth their mellow 
light from the candelabra, long tables were 
spread with snowy white linen cloths, glasses 
of wine sparkled like so many jewels, in their 
brilliancy. Pots of ferns were spreading 
their green, slender fronds from pedestals in 
the hallway. A small platform had been 
reared and carpeted for the musicians. Li- 
sita slowly descended the stairs, dressed in 
her pink evening gown. She was not alto¬ 
gether happy for the one she loved most was 
far away and no doubt loved someone else. 
She thought it was the fisherman’s daughter 
and had not tarried long enough in Cave Hol¬ 
low to learn of Mollie’s death, but if she 
could have known the heart of her gallant 
lover, who was speeding to her over the moor, 
not ten miles away, she would have been su- 

293 


294 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

premely happy. To Lisita, as she gazed on 
the scene, everything seemed to be no more 
than light and beauty. The wine in the cups 
looked rich and red, but she would not drink 
it. The guests were beginning to arrive. Li¬ 
sita received them cordially and assigned 
them to their proper places, but where was 
her grandfather? She had not seen him for 
two hours. She searched the house, then with 
the big dog at her heels, stepped nimbly over 
the grounds in search of him. In a sheltered 
corner, on a rustic seat she discovered him, 
enjoying his pipe. 

“Why, Grandfather! You must come in. 
The guests are arriving and I was uneasy 
about you.” 

“ I have only been here a little while—just 
since supper, but I will come,” said her grand¬ 
father. 

To him the time had seemed short, for his 
mind had been so occupied with the scenes of 
a far away land, where he had been taken as 
a captive. But after all, did he not love its 
natural beauty? While he sat on the rustic 
bench and looked through the branches of 
the trees at the old house, aglow with lights, 
he reviewed the scenes of Cave Hollow. The 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 295 

cave in which he was concealed was not, after 
all, so different from the caves of Europe, in 
which primitive man took up his abode cen¬ 
turies ago. The sturdy trees that spread 
their leafy branches to beautify the wood¬ 
land, were a sample of great strength and he 
felt a longing to again be near them. He 
loved the song of the little brook that danced 
over its rocky bed, onward in its channel a 
mile or more, till it reached the waters above 
the old mill. At evening time he heard the 
call of the whippoorwill and the nighthawk, 
while the whispering breeze had been music 
to his ear, for it was nature’s voice ever tell¬ 
ing of its hidden charms. 

His son had left the Old World and found 
a resting place in the New World, so he too 
would go and seek a home where his son chose 
to live. Lisita was all he had now, and she 
had announced her intention to go back, so 
he would dispose of his property and accom¬ 
pany her. He told her his intentions as they 
walked through the grounds to the house. 
This made Lisita very happy but there was 
another surprise in store for her that eve¬ 
ning. The ball was at its height when she 
saw her grandfather rush out and greet a 


296 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

portly man in the hallway. He was a stran¬ 
ger to her, but just behind him was a tall man 
in evening dress in whom she could not be 
mistaken, and while her grandfather shook 
hands with him she at once pronounced him 
the most dignified and handsome guest of the 
evening. Lisita was talking to Lord Spencer, 
when Victor Coewell advanced, reaching out 
his hand and clasping hers, asking if he 
might not have the next dance. Though he did 
not dance, he took this means of obtaining 
her company. She was reserved and stood 
by the side of the lord until that dance was 
over, and as Dr. Coewell advanced, Lord 
Spencer bowed politely and sought another 
partner. 

“ You were not looking for uninvited 
guests, were you?” asked Victor. 

“ It is quite a surprise but I do not wish to 
be a burden to anyone,” said Lisita. 

“ I assure you you are not a burden to me,” 
answered Dr. Coewell. 

“ Then why did you write it?” asked Lisita. 

“ I did not,” answered Victor. 

They found a seat behind the palms and he 
drew forth an old letter telling her he had 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 297 

found it concealed in the cave, and that its 
contents prompted him to cross the sea. 

“You did not get my letter then?” asked 
Lisita. 

“ I got a letter, but not this one, telling me 
you wished to be released from your promise, 
but it did not call for an answer so I did not 
answer it,” said Dr. Coewell. 

“ Yes, but I got a letter from you,” said 
Lisita. 

“ There must be some mistake for I did not 
write to you,” said Victor Coewell. 

They decided that the one that had conceal¬ 
ed her, had done likewise with the letters, and 
sent others in their stead. Many mysteries 
were solved to their satisfaction as they sat 
in that fern shaded bower. Some of the guests 
were leaving and Dr. Coewell looked at his 
watch, held it before Lisita, and as their eyes 
met a mutual smile covered each countenance, 
for it was after midnight. When they were 
seated at the table with some of the guests 
who had remained, Dr. Coewell drank a glass 
of wine, though he had not drank anything 
stronger than cider before. Lisita did not 
taste the wine — the cup was full, and as 
she sat by her lover she compared it to 


298 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

her happiness, of which her heart was full. 

After the guests were all gone, William 
Alexander announced to Mr. Cox, Dr. Coewell 
and Lisita, his intentions of leaving England. 

“ I am going to sell out for good. America 
will be my home,” said Mr. Alexander. 

Mr. Cox was somewhat surprised but told 
him if he was going to sell, that he would buy 
his estate for his son. 

“Very well, sir, you may have them but 
you must pay the price,” said Mr. Alexander. 

“ We’ll not quarrel over that,” said Mr. Cox. 

In a few days the price was decided on, and 
a deed was made which conveyed all of the 
real estate and such personal property as Mr. 
Alexander did not wish to take with him to 
America, to Mr. Cox. Dr. Coewell and Lisita 
were together constantly, either riding, driv¬ 
ing or walking through the grounds, but 
when the time came to move to America she 
saw that the pictures of her father and grand¬ 
mother were securely packed, as well as many 
rare and quaint keepsakes. In three weeks 
they were ready for the voyage. As they 
sailed down the Thames, William Alexander 
turned his face to the land of his birth and 
bid it farewell forever. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 299 

Lisita and Dr. Coewell were watching the 
waves heat against the shore and listening 
to the murmur of the sea. Soon they were 
out of sight of land and their happy faces 
were turned homeward. They reached Park¬ 
ersburg in July and many times in after 
years, spoke of their happy ocean voyage. 
Victor asked them to stop at his father’s and 
rest a few days, and he would take them to 
Nancy Lake’s. As they went up the river on 
a boat, they decided to do this for Mr. Alex¬ 
ander wished to make some arrangements 
about the land in Cave Hollow. When they 
reached Coehern, harvest time was at hand 
and the waving fields of ripening grain were 
gradually falling in rows as the mighty cradle 
wielded by the hand of man, made its broad 
swath. 

Sambo, who was raking wheat, looked up 
and said “ Marse Vick am a cornin’ and he hab 
dat li’l gal by his side and an ole man on de 
hine seat to watch ’em.” 

The men in the field looked up and saw 
them driving up the lane from the river. Dur¬ 
ing their stay at Coewells, Mr. Alexander 
looked over the Deed for the land in Cave 
Hollow for he wished to be sure it had been 


300 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

made to him. Jamie Campbell had been stay¬ 
ing there, while he had been working at Coe- 
hern. 

Lisita and her grandfather rode over 
to Cave Hollow one day to look over the. 
place where they had met under such 
strange circumstances, and after all, 
where they had spent so many happy 
days. When they had mounted their 
horses to return, William Alexander 
raised his hand and moved it slowly around 
as if to survey the land in Cave Hollow, that 
reached to the summit of the hills around, and 
said, “ It is yours, Lisita, for you have learned 
to love it, though it seems to shut you off from 
the world outside.” 

Lisita could hardly believe what she heard, 
and with a glad smile she rode off, with her 
grandfather following in the narrow path. 
On the way to Coehern, her mind was filled 
with thoughts of what a nice home it would 
make for her and her grandfather. 

Dr. Coewell and his father had gone away 
on business for a day or two, and he had 
asked them to stay until their return, to go to 
Nancy Lake’s. Lisita loved the broad fields 
and the river at Coehern, and her stay seemed 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 301 

short. Mrs. Coewell admired her very much 
for she was full of life, industrious, neat and 
beautiful. Even the servants had learned to 
love her. 

On the evening when they expected Mr. 
Coewell and Victor to return, a child in the 
neighborhood near Millgrove was taken sud¬ 
denly ill, and Mrs. Coewell was sent for. Li- 
sita went with Mrs. Coewell and her aunt, 
who was visiting there. It was late when 
they started home, and they were detained 
by stopping to talk with people on the road. 
When they reached Millgrove it was after 
dark and it would have been much nearer 
to go across the hill from there, but it was 
a dense woods on either side, with narrow 
path between. They decided to go around the 
road by the old mill, for rattlesnakes might 
lurk in their pathway if they went across the 
hill. It was about nine o’clock when they 
reached the old mill and they sat down on the 
old millrock to rest. A bright moonlight 
shone all around. They had rested a few 
minutes when they looked up the road and 
saw a man coming. Mrs. Coewell said, “ It is 
Victor or Cornelius, who has come across the 


302 MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 

hill to meet us, and not finding us he has taken 
this road to overtake us.” 

They waited a few minutes, and all they 
could see was a girl coming toward them, 
dressed in black, who seemed to get smaller 
as she advanced. She knelt down in front 
of some cows in the road and made a mourn¬ 
ful noise. 

“ That thing acts very strange,” said Mrs. 
Coewell’s aunt. 

“ That’s just what I was thinking,” said 
Mrs. Coewell. “ Will you go with me to it?” 
But her aunt and Lisita would not go. The 
form arose and walked to the bank by the old 
mill, uttering the same cry and they hastened 
homeward to relate their strange experience. 
On their way to the ferry they met four men, 
spoke to them and passed on but soon heard 
footsteps approaching from behind, and, on 
looking around saw two men coming at a 
rapid gait after them. The women ran as 
fast as they could in order to reach the ferry 
and ring the ferry-bell if anyone tried to harm 
them. They reached home in safety and told 
their story which has been retold, almost for¬ 
gotten, and then revived again. When Cor¬ 
nelius Coewell heard it, he said, “ You all tell 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 303 

the same story, and your ghost got smaller 
instead of larger all the time, and that is very 
strange for a ghost story.” All slept soundly 
at Coehern that night except Mrs. Coewell 
who told how sleep would not come to her 
and how she lay awake all night watching, 
listening, waiting for the nocturnal apparia- 
tion which never came. 







CHAPTER XXXVI. 


SUNSHINE AFTER SHADOWS. 

Lisita’s happy stay at Coehern came to a 
sudden close on the following Monday, when 
Sambo drove the spring wagon around to the 
front gate and Dr. Coewell, with a smile, led 
her out, took her hand in his and assisted her 
in getting upon the high seat, with springs, 
then climbed in and took his place by her side. 
Sambo and her grandfather occupied the 
front seat and a basket of dinner was shoved 
under it. 

The Coewell’s stood in the yard and waved 
goodbye as the party drove down the lane. 
All the world seemed glad to Lisita now and 
so very different from the times when she 
awoke to find herself in a cave, and each day 
seemed to add to her happiness. Dr. Coewell, 
too, remembered the time when he strolled 
by the river, and darkness was all he seemed 
to see on the horizon. But what a change 
since he had found the truth and had someone 

305 


306 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

to love and care for. After this trip, which 
proved to be a very pleasant one, he must 
settle down and build a home for her who 
would make it a home indeed—where love 
would drive trouble away and bring cheer 
and happiness to his fireside on his returns 
from his long rides to allay the sufferings of 
his patients. 

When they arrived at Nancy Lake’s they 
found her and “ Wip ” in the midst of harvest. 
She was glad indeed, to see Lisita but was a 
little distant with the young doctor at first, 
for she had found the cold letter to Lisita, 
with his name on it, which Lisita had hidden 
between the logs of their cabin. When Lisita 
searched for it, she could not find it and went 
to her Aunt Nancy. She soon found it, and 
frowned as Lisita ran to Dr. Coewell with it. 
He read it and said, “A wonderful letter. 
Should I have tried, and wished to write such 
a letter, I could not have done better. I sup¬ 
pose you believed it?” 

“I surely did. I could not do otherwise,” 
said Lisita. 

As he tore the letter into shreds he walked 
to her side and said “ Can you not learn to 
trust a fellow? Never again believe me un- 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 307 

true, never forget the one who loves you, and 
is loyal to you at all times. Will you be—” 

Just then Nancy Lake came in and Lisita 
explained matters to her. When she found 
out the truth she said, “ If they have any 
more such men across the sea, I hope they’ll 
keep them there.” Dr. Coewell and Lisita 
were amused at her reply. They spent the 
time looking at pictures and keepsakes that 
had lain in the old chest for years, while 
Nancy Lake prepared dinner, and he finished 
the question he started to ask when she came 
in — “mine forever?” 

After dinner Victor rode over to Troy, de¬ 
cided to locate there, and rented an office. He 
started for Coehern early the next morning 
with Lisita’s promise to be his wife upper¬ 
most in his heart. 

A few minutes after the women’s experi¬ 
ence at the old mill, a crowd of men gathered 
around the millrock and stayed till after mid¬ 
night, but nothing was seen nor heard. 

In a few days Dr. Coewell was located at 
Troy and visited at Nancy Lake’s on Sundays. 
The wedding was set for early Spring and he 
was planning to build a home, when Fort 
Sumter was fired upon. Lisita was making 


308 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

preparations for her wedding day. Most peo¬ 
ple were laying aside their looms and spin¬ 
ning wheels by this time but used them again 
after the war. A piece of plain white cambric 
had been purchased for her wedding gown. 
Not many people had sewing machines at 
that time, so she. made the dress by hand. 
Four widths were put in the skirt, which was 
gathered to a belt at the waist line. The 
waist was made with a yoke, the lower part 
being gathered and sewed to the yoke at top, 
and to the belt at bottom. The stitches in this 
gown were so small one could hardly see them, 
and with it on Lisita looked like a wild flower 
of the forest, and under Dr. Coewell’s smile 
a pink tint crept over her face, like the blush 
of the rose at dawn. 

As time went on a call for volunteers was 
made. The great Civil War was at hand, and 
the women who had seen signs in the sky of 
the oncoming war, knew its meaning after the 
bloody battles which left in their wake the 
dead, dying and wounded who had served 
their country in time of need. The men were 
volunteering all around and Dr. Coewell who 
wished to aid his country at this critical time, 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 309 

made a sudden resolve: he must be ready 
to go with the rest that evening. 

In an hour’s time he and a minister were 
galloping toward Nancy Lake’s. They reach¬ 
ed there before noon. He told them his inten¬ 
tions and in a short time Lisita was dressed 
in her wedding gown, and all through the 
cruel war Dr. Coewell never forgot her in¬ 
nocent face. They were married at noon and 
after eating the wedding dinner Nancy Lake 
had prepared, he covered his bride’s face with 
kisses and marched away. 

During the trying days of the war, ’mid 
the sufferings of the wounded and dying, 
while he endeavored to alleviate pain, the im¬ 
age of his young and beautiful bride was ever 
before him. Lisita, who was only sixteen 
years old, but really older in manners and 
efficiency, prayed daily for the safe return 
of her stalwart husband. 

Mrs. Coewell received a letter a few days 
after his enlistment and as she read its mean¬ 
ing, her eyes filled with tears, but welling 
up in her heart was a thought of pride for 
her country and she was proud to give a son 
for such a great cause. When Cornelius Coe¬ 
well read his son’s letter, he said “ My grand- 


310 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

father fought in the Revolution and I was in 
the war of 1812. Now it seems meet that my 
son too, be a soldier for our country and 
learn the horrors of war. 

During the exciting times of the war, Li- 
sita, her grandfather and Aunt, with a supply 
of blankets, slept out sometimes so no harm 
would come to them from the Confederate 
Raiders. Cornelius Coewell lost a horse, sad¬ 
dle and bridle during Imboden’s Raid. At 
another farm house, in the neighborhood, 
after eating a fine dinner the raiders had 
ordered the women to prepare, they drank all 
the buttermilk they wanted, poured the rest 
on the floor and danced in it. 

Many were killed by irregular troops of 
Confederates or “bushwhackers.” 

Mr. Alexander heard from his brother-in- 
law across the sea, who told of Robert Thomp¬ 
son’s trial and sentence to life imprisonment. 
The old gentleman, who was near seventy, 
seemed to be growing younger all the time, 
and took unto himself Nancy Lake for a wife. 
By the close of the Civil War, her vine cov¬ 
ered cabin that had sheltered her father and 
mother in earlier days, and herself for fifty 
years, had grown into a large two-story farm- 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MTT,T, 311 

house and much land around was added to her 
little farm. 

Cornelius Coewell learned by letter of his 
son’s marriage. He knew Lisita’s love for 
Cave Hollow and had it made into a modern 
Eden. The house was weatherboarded, 
porch built overlooking the little stream of 
water that ran through the hollow—a well 
was dug by the back porch, a milk house built 
over the stream, a yard around the house 
was cleared, raked off and burned and grass 
seed sown, the yard enclosed with a picket 
fence, as was a garden that lay at the back. 
A grove of maple trees were left standing 
a little way from he house, while sturdy trees 
of different kinds, surrounded the cleared 
fields. 

An orchard was set out on the hillside, and 
the old cave was fitted up with bins so that 
it would rival our modern cellars. The house 
was furnished with woden rockers and split 
bottomed chairs, wooden tables and bed¬ 
steads, made by James Grant, the fisherman. 
The beds, on which were straw and feather 
ticks were dressed with linen sheets, pillow 
cases and homespun counterpanes. Rag car¬ 
pets were spread on the sitting room floor, 


312 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

and in bedrooms upstairs and down. When 
they had finished their work in Cave Hollow 
and returned home, news was awaiting them 
of the great victory at Gettysburg, and they 
hoped to see Victor before long. 

Dr. Coewell wrote to his wife and invited 
them to meet him at Coehern in September of 
the next year. William Alexander, his wife 
and Lisita arrived in time to help prepare the 
infare supper. When he arrived, greeted his 
wife and the rest, they sat down to a bountiful 
supper. Lisita noticed her husband had 
changed his youthful look for a more manly 
one, in his four year’s absence, while he could 
see that his wife was more stately and wom¬ 
anly. After a few days at Coehern they strol¬ 
led across the hill hand in hand till they reach¬ 
ed Cave Hollow where they first met. What a 
change had been wrought in the old hollow 
which a few years before had been the home of 
trees, and their honeymoon was spent where 
Lisita had spent some of her girlhood days, 
the place of all the world she loved best, 
a bower of love and contentment which they 
had earned by sacrifice and through the work¬ 
ings of a kind fate. 

Nancy Lake visited them again the next 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 313 

year and they took her to see a steamboat, 
which to her was the wonder of the age. She 
told them of William Kerr’s happy marriage, 
and of Tommy Hunter who was teaching 
school at Horn Creek. 

After the slaves were freed, the four who 
were at Cornelius Coewell’s as servants, re¬ 
fused to leave, and two of them were given 
to Lisita for servants. 

In the evening of life, Roanne Coewell 
spent much of her time by the fireside of her 
son, and Cornelius, junior, persisted in carry¬ 
ing some old saddle pockets all the while, and 
when in front of Roanne, he would say, “Take 
mec’in, gamma. I’se a docte.” 

His grandma would smile and appear to 
take his medicine which always made her 
well. On many occasions, the doctor, who 
was now known as an Army Surgeon, rode 
out of sight down the lane in Cave Hollow, 
which was nothing but a narrow path a few 
years before, carrying all his medicine with 
him. He charged from fifty cents to one dol¬ 
lar for a visit in the neighborhood, and twen¬ 
ty-five cents for a call on the road, but the 
doctor earned a name for himself in that 
early day, and the sunshine of health, hap- 


314 MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 

piness and plenty shone around his fireside. 
He and his wife have gone to rest but through 
their offspring comes one who perpetuates his 
ancestors in manners, looks and actions. 

Great changes have taken place at Coe- 
hern since that time and the old buildings 
have been replaced by new ones. The paths 
that seemed so long, in earlier years, are short 
now, or have been made in other places. The 
stillness that once reigned in Cave Hollow 
is broken by the whir of the aeroplane and 
the honk, honk, of the automobile, and 
the beauty of the forest is gone, save in 
memory. 

The mystery of the old mill is partially a 
mystery yet. The only solution of it is that a 
murder had been committed in that neigh¬ 
borhood and the murderer never was found. 
Years after when the old mill was torn down, 
the bones of a man and a dog were found in 
a place that had been dug out beneath the 
mill, where it skirted the road. The cry was 
supposed to have been sent forth at nightfall 
to frighten people away, so that he might go 
forth in search of food, unmolested, had not 
been heard for years before the bones were 
found, and it was supposed that the man had 


MYSTERY OP THE OLD MILL 315 

at last grown too weak to move the heavy 
stone that concealed them, and thus perished. 

The old mill finished its work and has long 
since gone to decay, the millrock has been 
taken away, and no trace of the old building 
marks the place of the so-called mystery. 


THE OLD MILL. 

Eliza A. Webb. 

The miller is silent, and so is the mill, 

The dam is still there, and the water is still, 
The wheel does not turn in the water so fair, 
But I feel in my heart I can see it there. 

At the opening gate where the waters run 
The wheel went round like the earth round 
the sun, 

The water in silvery sprays would fall, 

And I feel in my heart I can see it all. 

With horses and people standing round, 

And many a grist that had to be ground, 



316 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 


Whether talking of farming, of “ critter,” or 
cow, 

I feel in my heart I can hear them now. 

The jolly old miller was busy all day, 

From each sack he took toll and put it away. 
For mush and milk made a supper complete, 
And I feel in my heart I can see him eat. 

The water flowed on and reached the sea, 

As time goes on for you and me, 

And we sometimes stop in the mighty race 
For we feel in our hearts we have gained 
a pace. 

Though length is not gain, nor fleetness the 
way, 

But to run so we’re farther every day 
In the work of the Master who calleth for 
thee, 

And I feel in my heart there is work for me. 

But the miller is silent and so is the mill, 
The water in the old millpond is still. 

The wheel has fallen beside the shore 
And I feel in my heart it will turn no more. 


MYSTERY OF THE OLD MILL 317 

In memory it lives, though its task is done, 
As a noble work lives on and on, 

And when we are silent like the mill of old, 

I feel in my heart, our deeds will be told. 

Then in four walls of clay to repose secure; 

No more hardships or trials here endure. 
The waters of the mill-race have come and 
gone, 

And I feel in my heart we are moving on. 

The Savior, who trod upon earth among men, 
With the saints in glory, is coming again. 
The mill wheel is silent and gone to decay, 
And I feel in my heart we are passing away. 


The End 






















































































LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 























































































































































































































































































































































































